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BEAUTIES   OF    COLLYER 


SELECTIONS 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES, 


BY 


REV.  W.  B.  COLLYER,  D.  D.  F.  A.  S. 


COMPILED  BY  J.  O.  CHOULES. 


Ronton: 

LINCOLN    AND    EDMANDS. 
1833. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1833, 
by  Lincoln  &  Edmands  in  the  Clerk's  office  of  tJie 
District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


PREFACE 


The  rapid  multiplication  of  reading  individuals  among 
the  friends  of  religion,  is  one  of  the  most  auspicious 
signs  of  the  times.  Our  sabbath  schools  and  bible  classes 
have  created  habits  of  thought,  and  a  spirit  of  research, 
and  the  younger  members  of  our  families  and  churches 
are  hungering  and  thirsting  for  information. 

It  is  of  immense  importance  that  suitable  aliment  be 
provided  for  this  mental  appetite.  It  was  excited  by 
our  efforts,  let  us  not  suffer  it  to  become  morbid.  We 
led  to  the  tree  of  knowledge ;  let  us  guide  to  the  tree  of 
life,  whose  fruit  is  for  the  healing  of  the  nations. 

The  youthful  thousands  of  our  Israel  on  leaving  the 
sacred  enclosure  of  the  sabbath  school,  will  look  for  oc- 
cupation of  the  mind,  and  their  habits  and  opinions  will 
depend  in  a  high  degree  upon  the  character  of  the  books 
they  read.  If  passive  impressions  lead  to  active  habits, 
it  is  a  matter  of  high  concern  that  we  place  in  the  hands 
of  youth  works  that  may  produce  a  happy  influence  in 
sentiment  and  conduct. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  look  lound,  and  see  how 
works  of  excellence  may  be  brought  forth  from  sources 
hitherto  inaccessible  to  the  community.  It  has  appear- 
ed to  me  that  the  writings  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Collyer  would 
afford  fine  materials  for  a  volume  worthy  of  a  place  in 
every  christian  library.  Dr.  Collyer  is  the  able  and 
faithtul  pastt/i  of  a  large  congregation  m  the  vicinity  of 


IV  PREFACE. 

London.     His  popularity  has  been  bo  great  for  nearly  80 
years,  that  he  has  been  taxed  beyond  any  of  his  brethren 
in  requests  for  his  acceptable  services  on  public  occa- 
sions ;  yet  such  has  been  his  industry,  that  he  has  furnish- 
ed seven  large  octavo  volumes  lor  the  press,  beside  many 
occasional  pieces,  and  his  fame  will  not  rest  simply  on 
the  traditional  eloquence  of  his  pulpit  labors,  but  he 
will  be  known   to  posterity   as  the  able  divine,  in  his 
Lectures  on  the  Facts,  Miracles,  Parables,  Prophecies, 
Doctrines,  and  Duties  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures.     Only 
one  volume  (on  Facts)  of  these  Lectures  has  been  printed 
in  America ;  and,  that,  it  should  be  known,  was  the 
first  fruit  of  the  ministry,  and  written  when  its  author 
was  a  youth.    The  ripe  productions  of  his  matured  ex- 
perience and   profound  attainments,  are  seldom  found 
upon  this  continent,  except  in  a  few  of  the  choicest  min- 
isterial libraries.     Feeling  satisfied  that  Dr.  Colly er's 
writings  require  only  to  be  known  to  receive  admiration 
and  afford  instruction,   I  have  selected   the  following 
extracts,  which  afibrd  a  fair  specimen  of  his  Lectures  in 
general.     'Ehe  contents  of  this  volume  are  placed  under 
the  titles  of  facts,  miracles,  parables,  &c.  in  order 
to  indicate  the  Volumes  from  which  the  selectionB  have 
been  made. 

It  may  not  be  unsuitable  to  present  the  opinion  of  an 
eminent  reviewer  upon  the  merits  of  Dr.  Collyer  as  an 
author.  **  His  researches,  his  various  learning,  his  ac- 
cumulation of  interesting  facts,  his  presenting  old  and 
familiar  truths  in  a  new  and  striking  manner,  entitle  him 
to  rank  high  as  a  theological  writer.  His  style  is  re- 
markably elegant  and  polished,  and  there  is  a  rich  vein 
of  evangelical  piety  running  through  all  his  works." 

J.  0.  C. 

Kcwportf  R,  L  Jan.  1833. 


CONTENTS. 


FACTS. 


Revelation,  .... 
Sense,  Reason  and  Faith,  . 
Beauties  of  Nature,  .        • 

The  being  of  a  God,  .        • 

The  Deluge, 

Pride  of  the  Heart,  .        . 

Memorials  of  Gratitude, 
Destruction  of  Sodom,  • 

Sarah's  Grave,  ,        .        • 

Patriarchal  Faith,  or  Trial  of  Abram 
The  Orphan  Boy,  .        • 

The  God  of  Nature, 
Humanity  is  concerned  in  the  spread  of  the 
Gospel,         .        .        •        . 

Man  the  same  in  all  ages, 
One  man  differs  from  another. 


14 
16 
17 
20 
22 
25 
26 
34 
36 
38 


42 
44 
45 


CONTENTS. 


Reason  and  Revelation, 
Use  of  Sacred  History, 

Horrors  of  War, 

Writers  of  the  Scriptures — wise  and  good  men 
The  spirit  in  which  the  Bible  should  be  read, 
Man  a  dependent  creature,  .  .  , 
Human  power  is  limited,  .        , 


MIRACLES. 

Exertion  necessary  to  attainment,     .        . 
Man's  consciousness  of  immortality. 
Laudable  curiosity,  .... 

The  Apostles  of  Christ, 
Importance  of  religious  sentiments, 
Benevolence  of  Christianity, 
Miracles  of  Christ,  ...» 

Character  of  Moses,  .... 

Consistency  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures, 
Obscurity  no  argument  against  Revelation, 
Adversity  a  test  of  Character,  . 

The  first  Triumphs  of  Death,  •        • 

The  example  of  Ancient  Saints, 

Marriage, 

Relative  Duties,        •        •        •        •        • 
Divine    plans  in  harmony  with  divine  perfec 

tions,  ...  .        . 

Grand  epochs  in  human  life, 
Man  has  nothing  of  his  own  in  which  to  glory 


CONTENTS.  VU 


PARABLES. 


Monuments  of  human  grandeur  perish,    .        .  108 

Christ— a  Teacher, 112 

The   model  of  a   Gospel  Minister  should  be 

Christ  and  his  Apostles,         ....  116 

The  ministry  which  God  approves,  .         .  119 

DUTIES. 

Revealed  truths  afford  to  faith  its  proper  exer- 
cise,       .        .        I                        ...  120 
Christianity  distinguished  from  modern  philoso- 
phy,        122 

Submission  in  affliction,  ....  124 

Activity  the  characteristic  of  spirit,  .         .  127 

Trust  in  God,  incompatible  with  the  neglect  of 

duty, 129 

Social  Intercourse, 132 

Parental  Affection, 138 

Filial  Duties,  141 

Suicide,  145 

Sins  of  the  Tongue, 156 

God's  law  the  only  true  standard  of  morals;      .  162 

PROPHECY. 

The  Bible,  a  Classic, 168 

Close  of  Life, 172 

Death  of  Jacob, 175 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


The  bad  man  in  Solitude,         .        .        • 
Prophecy  dependent  on  Providence  for  illustra 

tion, 

Character  of  Balaam  improved, 

God  the  Supreme  Ruler, 

What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?         .        .        . 

Every  thing  connected  with  this  world  is  local 

and  temporary, 

God's  grand  Epochs,        .... 

Providence,      

The  enslaved  African,      •        .        .        . 

False  estimates  of  character,     . 

The  shortsightedness  of  man  contrasted  with 

perfection  of  God,  .... 

The  progress  of  the  Gospel,        .        .        • 


the 


177 

182 

184 
186 

187 

189 
191 
192 

193 
196 

198 
202 


BEAUTIES   OF   COLLYER. 


FACTS. 

REVELATION. 


Revelation  Las  done  that  for  man,  which  nei- 
ther reason  nor  philosophy  could  effect.  In  the 
exercise  of  the  powers  of  our  mind,  upon  the 
scenery  by  which  we  are  surrounded,  we  rise  to 
the  great  Parent  of  all ;  and  deduce  some  conclu- 
sions respecting  his  nature,  from  the  operations  of 
his  hand:  yet  have  we  seen  that  these  conclusions 
were  frequently  erroneous.  The  religion  of  nature 
cannot  go  further  than  to  teach  us  that  there  is  a 
God,  all-powerful,  all-wise,  all-good  ;  and  this  is 
more  than  it  taught  the  heathen  world  perfectl3^ 
But  it  leaves  us  ignorant  of  our  relation  to  him; 
it  is  unable  to  unravel  the  more  interesting  parts 
of  his  character  ;  it  cannot  develope  the  harmony 
of  his  attributes.  A  thousand  inquiries  are  sug- 
gested, to  which  we  receive  no  answer.  We  are 
placed  in  circumstances  for  which,  on  principles  of 
reason,  we  cannot  account ;  and  perceive  the  ex- 
istence of  evil,  unable  to  discover  its  source.  We 
labour  under  a  curse,  from  which,  by  the  light  of 
2 


10  BEAUTIES   OF  COLLYE  R. 

nature,  we  see  no  deliverance;  and  are  in  posses- 
sion of  an  existence,  for  which  we  perceive  no  ad- 
equate end.  Those  things  which  are  the  most  in- 
teresting, are  also  the  most  uncertain  ;  and  that 
which  we  know  naturally,  only  serves  to  kindle  a 
thirst  to  learn  more,  which,  on  the  principles  of 
nature  and  reason  merely,  cannot  he  satiated. 
For  what  has  the  light  of  philosophy  done,  but 
rendered  darkness  visible?  It  has  strained  the 
powers  of  reason  and  imagination,  till  they  could 
be  stretched  no  further;  yet  without  bringing  one 
bidden  truth  to  light.  It  has  perplexed  and  bewil- 
dered the  mind  by  contradictory  hypotheses.  It 
has  exhausted  the  charms  of  eloquence,  and  ener- 
vated the  force  of  argument,  in  establishing  favour- 
ite systems  upon  the  ruins  of  those  which  preceded 
them,  only  to  be  pulled  down  in  their  turns,  to 
make  way  for  others  equally  absurd,  and  equally 
false.  After  dragging  us  through  mazes  of  intri- 
cate reasoning,  it  leaves  us  precisely  at  the  point 
at  which  it  found  us,  all  uncertainty,  obscurity,  and 
suspense.  "The  world  by  wisdom  know  not  God." 
We  aj)peal  to  facts — they  are  before  you — and 
we  confidently  expect  your  decision  upon  their 
testimony. 

It  is  bore  that  Revelation  takes  up  the  process, 
and  disperses  the  mist  of  uncertainty.  It  professes 
not,  indeed,  to  reason  upon  subjects  beyond  the 
comprehension  of  the  human  mind  ;  but  it  reveals 
the  fad,  and  requires  our  assent  to  it:  which  we 
may  safely  give,  although   we  do  not  comprehend 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  11 

the  whole  of  that  which  is  revealed.  Those  parts 
which  we  do  comprehend,  we  conceive  to  be  true 
and  wise  :  may  we  not  reasonably  conclude  that 
those  which  we  do  not  completely  understand,  are 
equally  so;  and  that  the  deficiency  is  in  our  natu- 
ral powers,  and  not  in  the  subject  investigated? 
Those  who  call  upon  you  to  relinquish  your  Bibles, 
have  not  attempted  to  fathom  the  depths  of  futuri- 
ty. They  rather  wish  you  to  consider  the  scanty 
period  of  "threescore  years  and  ten,"  the  bounda- 
ry of  the  hopes,  the  joys,  and  the  expectations  of 
man.  The}'^  place  beyond  death — annihilation  ! 
The  thought  is  insufferable  !  Say,  you  who  have 
dropped  the  parting  tear  into  the  grave  of  those 
whom  you  loved — is  this  a  consoling  system  ?  Are 
the  most  tender  connections  dissolved  to  be  renew- 
ed no  more?  Must  I  resign  my  brother,  my  parent, 
my  friend,  my  child — for  ever?  What  an  awful 
import  these  words  bear !  Standing  upon  the  grave 
of  my  family,  must  I  say  to  its  de[>arted  members, 
"Farewell!  ye  who  were  once  the  partners  of  my 
joys  and  sorrows!  I  leaned  upon  you  for  support; 
I  poured  my  tears  into  your  bosom;  I  received 
from  your  hands  the  balm  of  sympathy — But  it  is 
no  more!  No  more  shall  I  receive  your  kindness; 
no  more  shall  I  behold  you  !  The  cold  embrace  of 
death  clasps  your  mouldering  bodies,  and  the 
shadows  of  an  impenetrable  midnight  brood  for 
EVER  upon  your  sepulchres!"  No  !  We  cannot  re- 
linquish Christianity  for  a  system  which  conducts 
us  to  this  fearful  close  1    When  scepticism  shall 


12  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

Lave  provided  a  substitute  for  our  present  hopes, 
we  will  listen  with  more  confidence  to  its  proposals. 
And  yet  the  cry  of  modern  philosophy  is  against 
the  only  pledge  of  immortality  afforded  the  human 
race.  Where  is  the  gratitude  of  such  conduct? 
Are  we  not  indebted  to  it  for  all  the  illumination 
which  we  enjoy  ?  Did  Paganism  disappear,  till 
Christianity  exerted  her  benign  influence  ?  Did  not 
man  in  a  state  of  nature  demand  and  offer  human 
victims?  And  did  not  Revejation  stay  the  effusion 
of  blood,  and  abolish  these  infamous  rites  ?  Is  it 
not  friendly  to  science  and  civilization  ?  Is  it  not 
inimical  to  whatever  is  injurious  to  the  interests  of 
man?  Where  is  the  wisdom o^ such  an  opposition? 
Before  you  banish  this,  produce  a  better  system  : 
shew  us  "  a  more  excellent  way  :"  teach  us  moral- 
ity more  sublime!  What  is  its  cn'me?  Sedition? 
Impossible!  It  "  puts  us  in  mind  to  be  subject  to 
principalities  and  powers,  to  obey  magistrates,  to 
be  ready  to  every  good  work."  Want  of  philan- 
thropy ?  Surely  not !  Some  may  bear  its  name  who 
do  not  breathe  its  spirit:  but  their  bigotry  and  il- 
liberality  are  not  chargeable  upon  Christianity — 
Christianity,  which  teaches  "  to  speak  evil  of  no 
man,  to  be  no  brawlers,  but  gentle,  showing  all 
meekness  unto  all  men."  It  substitutes  faith  for 
good  works ;  and  its  professed  teachers  set  up 
opinion  against  morality  ?  It  is  a  gross  calumny  ! 
It  blends  these  nominally  jarring  principles  :  it  as- 
signs to  each  its  proper  place  :  it  requires  the  in- 
fluence, and  commands  the  agency,  both  of  thq 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  13 

one  and  the  other  ;  it  joins  together  those  things 
■which  men  frequently  separate  ;  and  with  equal 
consistency  and  plainness,  traces  the  causes  and 
effects  of  salvation :  it  has  prescribed—"  these 
things  I  will  that  thou  affirm  constantly,  that  they 
which  have  believed  in  God,  be  careful  to  maintain 
good  works." 

Extinguish  the  light  afforded  by  this  despised  vol- 
ume, and  you  are  precisely  in  the  situation  of  the 
heathen  world.  I  close  the  Bible  ;  and  there  re- 
mains to  you  a  hope  without  a  foundation,  assault- 
ed by  a  thousand  dismal  apprehensions.  The 
planets  which  roll  over  your  head  declare  match- 
less wisdom,  and  incalculable  immensity.  They 
write  in  the  heavens  the  name  of  Deity;  and 
the  attributes  of  power,  majesty,  and  immutability. 
But  where  is  the  record  of  pardon  ?  It  is  neither 
written  by  the  sun-beam,  nor  wafted  on  the  breeze. 
Where  is  the  record  of  immortality  ?  It  is  not  in- 
scribed on  the  face  of  the  heavens,  nor  revealed  by 
the  operations  of  nature.  "The  depth  saith,  'It  is 
not  in  me  I'  and  the  sea  saith,  '  It  is  not  in  me  !'  " 
Look  abroad  into  creation.  "Canst  thou  by 
searching  find  out  God  ?  Canst  thou  find  out  the 
Almighty  unto  perfection?  It  is  high  as  heaven! 
what  canst  thou  do  ?  deeper  than  hell !  what  canst 
thou  know  ?  The  measure  thereof  is  longer  than 
the  earth  ;  it  is  broader  than  the  sea !" 


14  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

SENSE,  REASON,  AND  FAITH. 

Sense,  Reason,  and  Faith,  may  be  considered  as 
progressive  steps,  by  which  the  mind  ascends  to 
the  invisible  God.  Creation  is  an  object  of  Sense. 
The  hght  which  shines  upon  my  path  is  an  emblem 
of  the  purity  of  Deity.  The  meridian  sun  is  an 
image  of  his  uncreated  glory,  who  is  the  centre  of 
every  system.  Whether  I  gaze  upon  the  heavens, 
and  trace  the  revolutions  of  orbs  which  move  there: 
or  follow  the  eccentric  comet  through  its  protract- 
ed sphere,  so  far  as  it  is  visible:  or  examine  the 
insect  that  flits  by  me,  or  tiie  blade  of  grass  upon 
which  I  trample  ;  I  perceive  the  operations,  and 
adore  the  wisdom  of  the  Divinity.  His  voice 
speaks  in  the  thunder-storm  ;  and  when  his  light- 
ning bursts  from  the  bosom  of  the  dark  cloud, 
"  my  flesh  trembleth  for  fear  of  his  judgments." 
Fanned  with  the  breath  of  the  morning,  or  the 
gale  of  the  evening  ;  standing  in  this  plain,  or  on 
that  mountain  ;  dwelling  on  the  dry  land,  or  float- 
ing on  the  surface  of  the  deep — I  am  still  with 
God. 

Reason  takes  up  the  process  where  Sense  fails. 
It  deduces  inferences  respecting  invisible  things 
from  those  "  which  do  appear."  Nature  wafts  the 
mind  to  the  Creator.  From  its  majesty.  Reason 
argues  his  greatness;  from  its  endless  variety,  his 
bounty  ;  from  its  uses,  his  wisdom.  The  founda- 
tion of  the  Temple  of  Knowledge  is  laid  deep, 
wide,  and  lasting,  on   the    face   of  the  universe. 


BEAUTIES   OF  COLLYER.  15 

Reason  seizes  such  materials  as  Sense  can  furnish, 
and  carries  on  the  buiKling.  But,  alas,  the  edifice 
remains  incomplete !  The  architect  is  skilful,  but  tlie 
materials  are  scanty.  Tiiose  which  are  most  es- 
sential to  crown  the  work,  lie  far  from  this  country 
bej'ond  the  grave.  In  vain  imagination  lends  her 
assistance,  and  attempts  to  explore  the  land  of 
spirits,  where  only  they  are  to  be  found.  Bewilder- 
ed, exhausted,  and  powerless,  the  artist  sits  down 
in  silent  despair. 

Here  Faith  takes  up  the  tools  which  fell  from 
the  hand  of  Reason.  Revelation  ascertains  all 
that  futurity  had  concealed  ;  and  Faith  draws  her 
materials  from  Revelation.  The  building  rises, 
and  shall  continue  to  rise,  "till  the  to|)-stone  is 
brought  forth  with  shouting."  For  "faith  is  the 
substance  of  things  hoped  for;  the  evidence  of 
things  not  seen." 

Sense  cannot  introduce  us  to  the  invisible  Maj- 
esty of  heaven.  It  can  only  present  us  with  his 
image.  The  pure,  ethereal  light — the  blaze  of  a 
noontide  sun — the  azure  heavens,  and  revolving 
orbs — the  mysterious,  eccentric  comet — the  insect 
curiously  wrought,  and  the  grass  simply  elegant — 
the  thunder-storm — the  lightning,  vivid  and  irre- 
sistible— the  morning  and  evening  breeze — the 
verdant  plain,  and  the  elevated  mountain — the  sol- 
id earth,  and  the  rolling  seas — these  all  reflect  the 
glory  of  Deity,  all  bear  the  impress  of  his  hand, 
all  develope  his  wonderful  agency — but  they  are 
not  God  himself. 


16  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

Reason  ascends  a  little  higher;  and  from  the 
volume  of  nature,  through  the  medium  of  sense, 
unfolds  a  little  of  the  divine  nature,  and  a  few  of 
his  perfections.  His  immensity,  his  wisdom,  his 
liberality,  may  be  inferred  from  every  thing  which 
I  behold :  but,  alas,  I  am  still  at  a  distance  from 
God!  What  is  he  to  me?  What  does  he  require? 
Have  I  disobeyed  the  dictates  of  reason  at  any 
time?  or  neglected  to  serve  him?  If  so,  will  he 
pardon  sin?  and  how  ami  to  receive  forgiveness? 
Neither  reason  nor  sense  can  answer  these  in- 
quiries, nor  silence  the  clamours  of  conscience. 

It  is  Faith  rising  on  the  wing  of  Revelation  that 
introduces  me  into  the  heaven  of  heavens,  unlocks 
the  mystery,  and  unfolds  the  seven-sealed  book* 
Here  I  read  the  covenant  of  mercy.  Here  I  re- 
ceive the  promise  of  pardon.  Here  I  learn  all  that 
I  would  know,  and  anticipate  all  that  I  shall  here- 
after enjoy.  The  pressure  of  the  ills  of  life  is 
lightened;  and  I  "endure  as  seeing  Him  who  is 
invisible." 


BEAUTIES  OF  NATURE. 

Who  can  behold  the  fair  structure  of  the  heavens 
and  the  earth  without  feeling  a  powerful  desire  to 
understand  their  origin,  and  to  be  acquainted,  in 
some  measure  at  least,  with  the  Architect  who 
reared  them  ?  Cold  is  the  heart  which  kindles  not 
into  devotion,  when  the  skies  blaze  with  a  thousand 
lamps ;  and  grovelling  the  mind,  which  rises  not 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  17 

through  the  system  of  the  universe  to  the  Great  First 
Cause !  Brmd  is  that  understanding  which  cannot 
see,  amid  the  vicissitudes  of  seasons,  and  the  chang- 
ing blessings  of  the  spring,  the  summer,  the  autumn, 
and  the  winter,  the  superintendence  of  a  faithful 
friend,  and  the  bounty  of  an  unwearied  benefac- 
tor! Insensible  is  that  man  who  can  look  upon 
this  grand  machinery,  and  live  in  the  bosom  of 
creation,  yet  perceive  no  harmony,  no  order,  no 
loveliness,  no  design  ;  or  upon  whom  they  make 
no  impression  !  Let  the  friend  of  my  choice  be 
one  who  can  relish  the  majesty  of  nature:  who  on 
the  close  of  the  day,  from  the  sumnjit  of  some  lofty 
mountain,  will  watch  the  rising  cloud,  and  observe 
the  evening  spread  her  grey  and  dusky  mantle  over 
the  features  of  the  landscape,  till  they  are  lost  and 
extinguished:  whose  eye  is  fixed  with  delight  on 
the  stars  as  they  break  one  by  one  through  the  in- 
creasing obscurity ;  and  who,  withdrawing  from 
the  workl,  and  penetrating  the  forest,  can  rejoice 
with  the  laughing  scenes  around  him, and  can  relish 
retirement,  nor  envy  the  dissipation  of  life,  as  he 
hears  its  noise  swelling  on  the  gale  of  the  evening. 
The  friend  of  God,  and  the  admirer  of  nature,  is  the 
man  whom  I  would  choose  as  my  companion,  and 
love  as  my  own  soul. 


THE  BEING  OF  A  GOD. 
If  the  world  be  not  the  production  of  chance, 
and  if  it  be  not  eternal,  it  follows  that  it  must  have 
been  created — in  order  to  which  there  must  have 


18  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

been  an  infinite  Architect.  We  have  seen  human 
reason  led  into  labyrinths,  from  which  it  could  not 
be  extricated  but  by  the  friendly  assistance  of  Rev- 
elation. To  the  eye  of  nature,  all  is  obscurity. 
We  have  received  decisive  evidences  from  notori- 
ous facts,  that  when  an  investigation  of  these  sub- 
jects has  been  attempted  by  men  of  the  first  talents 
independently  of  this  infallible  guide,  the  mortify- 
ing and  inevitable  result  has  been,  bewildered  sys- 
tems, trembling  uncertainty,  clashing,  contradictory 
theories.  "  There  is  a  path  which  no  fowl  knoweth, 
and  which  the  vulture's  eye  hath  not  seen  ;  the 
lion's  whelps  have  not  trodden  it,  nor  hath  the 
fierce  lion  passed  by  it."  These  secret  paths  are 
the  operations  of  God,  sought  out  by  those  who 
love  him,  and  discovered  only  by  the  direction  of 
his  word,  and  the  agency  of  his  spirit.  Admit  the 
being  of  a  God,  and  all  is  clear  and  luminous. 
Every  difficulty  vanishes;  for  what  cannot  Omni- 
potence perform?  "The  fool  hath  said  in  his 
heart,  there  is  no  God."  Can  he  deserve  a  milder 
name  who  holds  his  irrational  creed  ?  All  nature 
proclaims  his  existence  ;  and  every  feeling  of  the 
heart  is  responsive  to  its  voice.  The  instant  we 
begin  to  breathe,  our  connection  with  God  is  com- 
menced, and  it  is  a  connection  which  cannot  be 
dissolved  forever.  All  other  unions  are  formed  for 
a  season  only ;  time  will  waste  them  ;  death  will 
destroy  them;  but  this  connection  looks  death  in 
the  face,  defies  the  injuries  of  time,  and  is  com- 
mensurate with  the  ages  of  eternity.     The  moment 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLIER.  19 

we  are  capable  of  distinguishing  between   good 
and   evil,  our  responsibility  to  God  is  begun— it 
commences  with  the  dawn  of  reason,  it  looks  for- 
ward to  the  judgment  seat  as  its  issue.     At  every 
period,  and   under  every  circumstance  of  human 
life,  man  still  draws  his  existence  from  the  "Foun- 
tain of  life:"  he  may  be  cut  off  from  society,  but 
cannot  be  separated  from  God  :  he  may  renounce 
his  fellow  men,  but  never  can  burst  the  bonds  of 
obligation  by  which  he  is  held  to  his  Maker,  till  he 
shall  have  acquired  the   power  to  extinguish  that 
immaterial  principle  within  him,  which  can  never 
be  subjected  to  decay,  or  to  dissolution.     The  last 
sigh  which  rends  the  bursting  heart,  terminates  the 
correspondence     between    man    and    man  ;     but 
strengthens   the    union    between    God    and    man. 
All  the  springs  of  enjoyment  and  of  existence  are 
hidden  in  the  Deity,  and  the  fates  of  the  human 
race  are  suspended  in  the  balances  sustained  by 
his  unshaken  arm.     It  is  an  object  of  the  first  mag- 
nitude, to  learn  something  of  the  Being  with  whom 
we  stand  thus  intimately  and  inseparably  connect- 
ed ;  who  is  light  and  warmth  in  the  sun,  softness 
in  the  breeze,  power  in  the  tempest,  and  the  prin- 
ciple which  pervades  and  animates,  which  regu- 
lates and  sustains  universal  nature  :  but  to  deny 
his  existence,  is  the  madness  of  desperation,  and 
the  temerity  of  presumption;  of  all  insanity  it  is 
the  worst;  and  of  all  ingratitude,  it  is  the  deepest. 
I  see  him  rolling  the  planets  in  their  orbits,  control- 
ling the  furious  elements,  and  stretching  an  irresist- 


20  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

ible  sceptre  over  all  things  created.  1  see  the 
globe  suspended  and  trembling  in  his  presence; 
and  the  kingdoms  of  this  world,  absorbed  in  his 
empire,  rising  to  distinction,  or  falling  into  irrecov- 
erable desolation,  according  to  the  council  of  his 
will.  My  heart  is  not  at  ease.  J  am  instructed, 
but  not  tranquillized.  The  infinity  of  God  over- 
whelms me  ;  his  majesty  swallows  me  up  ;  his  in- 
flexible justice  and  purity  fill  me  with  dismay;  his 
power  makes  me  afraid.  It  is  this  volume  which 
first  brings  me  acquainted  with  him  as  God,  and 
afterwards  as  a  friend  :  which  represents  him  at 
once  the  Creator  and  Redeemer  of  the  human  race  ; 
and  while  his  attributes  command  my  admiration, 
his  mercy  forbids  my  terror. 


THE  DELUGE. 

The  world  have  ever  been  blind  to  their  best  in- 
terests; have  ever  sported  with  their  own  ruin. 
When  Noah  laid  the  first  beams  of  his  ark  across 
each  other,  it  is  probable  he  did  it  amid  the  insult- 
ing shouts  of  an  hardened  multitude.  The  build- 
ing advanced.  Some  admired  the  structure  ;  some 
derided  his  plan;  some  charged  him  vvith  enthu- 
siasm, or  with  insanity  ;  more  were  lost  in  sensu- 
ality;  and  all  united  in  the  desperate  resolution  to 
bury  his  admonitions  in  the  grave  of  oblivion.  Still 
he  entreated;  still  they  spurned  his  instructions; 
still  the  edifice  rose  day  after  day ;  still  the  voice 
of  gaiety  was  echoed  on  every  side.    With  strange 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  21 

infatuation,  they  stopped  their  ears ;  and  refused 
to  "Usten  to  the  voice  of  the  charmer;"  who  so- 
licited them  with  unwearied  perseverance,  and 
reasoned  "so  wisely."  The  roof  is  at  length  cov- 
ered in.  The  danger  becomes  every  hour  more 
imminent.  He  presses  his  warnings  upon  them 
with  increased  energy ;  but,  pointing  to  the  un- 
clouded sky,  they  laugh  him  to  scorn,  and  load 
his  ministration  with  contempt.  It  is  closed!  The 
last  exhortation  has  been  given  ;  and  he  has  wiped 
the  last  tear  of  insulted  tenderness  from  his  cheek. 
Ye  blind,  insensible  mortals!  what  charm  has 
"holden  your  eyes,"  that  ye  cannot  see?  Discern 
ye  not  the  cloud  that  gathers  over  yonder  moun- 
tain ?  The  brute  creation  see  it;  and  hasten  for 
shelter  to  the  ark.  The  family  of  Noah  close  the 
procession  ;  they  have  entered  their  refuge ;  and 
even  now  "the  door  is  shut!"  Oh  !  it  is  too  late  ! 
Fraught  with  heavy  indignation,  the  tempest  lowers 
fearfully.  Every  "  face  gathers  blackness."  Yet 
scarcely  is  it  perceived,  before  a  new  scene  of  ruin 
presents  itself.  Ah  I  there  is  no  esca})ing  the  hand 
of  God!  The  skies  pour  an  unabating  torrent. 
An  hollow  groan  is  heard  through  universal  nature, 
deploring  the  impending  destruction.  The  birds 
and  beasts  which  remain,  excluded  from  the  ark, 
scream  and  howl  in  the  woods,  whither  they  had 
fled  for  shelter.  The  sea  assaults  the  shore;  the 
restriction  of  heaven  is  removed  ;  it  passes  its  an- 
cient boundaries ;  it  triumphs  already  over  the 
plains,  and  gains  upon   the  hills.    The  ark  floats 


22  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

upon  its  bosom.  The  despairing  multitude  fasten 
upon  it  an  eye  of  distraction :  they  implore  in  vain 
the  assistance  of  the  prophet  whom  they  had  des- 
pised, and  whose  pitying  eyes  are  again  suffused 
with  unavailing  tears.  He  can  bear  it  no  longer. 
He  retires  to  the  innermost  recesses  of  his  vessel. 
In  the  phrenzy  of  despair,  parents  clasp  their  chil- 
dren to  their  cold  bosoms,  and  flee  to  the  highest 
mountains.  Where  else  could  they  resort  for 
shelter?  for  the  boundless  sea  saps  the  foundation 
of  the  firmest  edifices.  What  is  their  desperation 
as  the  waves  approach  the  summit !  It  is  equally 
impossible  to  descend,  to  rise  higher,  or  to  escape. 
They  have  prolonged  a  miserable  existence  a  few 
hours,  only  to  sink  at  last! — It  is  all  in  vain! 
"The  waters  prevail  exceedingly;  every  high  hill 
is  covered ;  and  fifteen  cubits"  over  their  loftiest 
summits,  the  flood  rises  in  haughty  triumph! 


PRIDE  OF  THE  HEART. 

It  was  pride  that  dictated  the  haughty  lan- 
guage of  the  king  of  Babylon,  when,  from  the  bat- 
tlements of  his  palace,  he  looked  down  upon  his 
beautiful  city,  and  said — "  Is  not  this  great  Babylon, 
that  I  have  built  for  the  house  of  the  kingdom,  by 
the  might  of  my  power,  and  for  the  honour  of  my 
majesty  ?"  O,  how  the  "  pride  of  his  heart  deceiv- 
ed" him!  "While  the  word  was  in  the  king's 
mouth,  there  fell  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying,  O 
Jsing  Nebuchadnezzar,  to  thee  it  is  spoken ;  the 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  23 

kingdom  is  departed  from  thee  !"  The  "  same  hour 
was  he  driven  from  men,"  and  his  "dweUing  was 
with  the  beasts  of  the  field  :"  his  reason  was  witli- 
drawn,  and  his  body  was  wet  with  the  dew  of 
heaven."  Behold,  he  that  would  be  thought  a 
God,  is  become  less  tljan  a  man  !  Nor  were  the 
balances  of  power  again  put  into  his  hand  till  he 
had  been  brought  to  confess,  "that  the  Most  High 
ruleth  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to 
whomsoever  he  will ;"  and  to  acknowledge,  in  a 
repentant  decree,  that  "those  who  walk  in  pride, 
he  is  able  to  abase." 

nap[.y  had  it  been  for  his  successor,  if  this  awful 
display  of  divine  justice  had  wrought  in  his  heart 
obedience.  But  Belshazzar  learned  not  wisdom 
from  his  grandfather's  humiliation.  He  exceeded 
his  great  progenitor  in  impiety.  He  stood  on  the 
pinnacle  of  empire,  till  he  was  giddy  with  gazing 
upon  the  rolling  world  beneath  him!  The  forces 
of  Cyrus  surrounded  the  city;  but,  trusting  in  its 
impregnable  strength,  the  defence  of  tlie  river,  and 
the  greatness  of  his  stores,  he  laughed  his  enemies 
to  scorn.  The  feast  was  spread,  and  the  revellings 
fiad  commenced.  Death  hovered  round  his  court, 
and  destruction  brooded  over  his  city,  while  he 
was  sunk  in  senseless  security.  And  now,  the 
voice  of  joy,  and  the  noise  of  riot,  resound  through 
the  palace.  The  monarch  calls  upon  his  nobles  to 
devote  the  hours  to  gaiety  ;  to  scatter  their  fears 
to  the  winds  ;  to  drink  defiance  to  the  warrior  ad- 
vancing to  their  very  gates  ;  and,  to  fill  the  meas- 


24  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

ure  of  his  iniquity,  to  add  insult  to  the  miseries  of 
his  captives,  to  crown  dissipation  with  sacrilege, 
he  requires,  last  of  all,  the  vessels  of  the  sanctuary, 
that  they  might  be  profaned  by  their  application  to 
not  merely  common  uses,  but  to  the  vile  purposes 
of  debauchery.  It  is  done.  The  king  is  lost  in 
unbounded  pleasure,  and  intoxicated  with  unlimit- 
ed power.  In  one  moment  the  voice  of  riot  ceases 
— silence,  as  profound  as  the  stillness  of  the  grave, 
reigns  through  the  whole  palace — every  tongue  is 
chained — every  eye  is  fixed — despair  lowers  on 
every  countenance — the  charm  is  broken — and  the 
night  of  feasting  is  turned  into  unutterable  horror! 
See  I  yonder  shadow,  wearing  the  appearance  of 
the  fingers  of  a  man's  hand,  glides  along  the  wall 
of  the  palace  opposite  the  monarch,  and  writes,  in 
mysterious  characters,  "Mene,  Mene,  Tekel, 
Upharsin."  What  has  changed  that  youthful 
countenance  ?  What  has  chased  its  bloom  of 
beauty,  and  drawn  on  it  the  strong  lines  of  misery  ? 
Behold  this  king  who  lately  dreamed  that  he  was 
more  than  mortal,  trembling  on  his  throne  !  '•  The 
joints  of  his  loins  are  loosed,  and  his  knees  smite 
one  against  another  !"  What  the  army  of  Cyrus 
could  not  do,  a  supernatural  hand,  writing  four 
little  w^ords,  has  effected  ;  and  his  soul  melts  with- 
in him  through  terror !  But  say,  What  is  the  cause 
of  this  premature  distress?  Perhaps  yonder  in- 
scription declares  the  permanence  of  his  kingdom  ; 
and  inscribes,  in  those  hidden  characters,  the  de- 
etruction  of  his  enemies  7    Ah  no !    Conscience 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  25 

read  too  well  the  handwriting  ;  and  interpreted  the 
solemn  sentence  of  impending  ruin,  long  before 
Daniel  explained  the  inscription!  While  all  was 
riot  during  the  first  part  of  the  night,  and  dismay 
during  the  remainder,  Cyrus  had  diverted  the  river 
from  its  course,  had  entered  the  city  through  its 
exhausted  channel,  un perceived,  and  was  now  at 
the  palace  gates.  The  etnpire  was  lost;  the  cap- 
tive Jews  were  liberated;  and  "that  same  night 
was  Belshazzar,  the  king  of  the  Chaldeans  slain." 
Behold  another,  added  to  the  innumerable  sad  evi- 
dences, that  the  "pride  of  the  heart"  fatally  '"de- 
ceives," and  finally  ruins  those  who  cherish  it. 


MEMORIALS  OF  GRATITUDE. 

As  Abraham  journied  in  the  road  by  which  he 
had  descended  into  Egypt,  he  came  again  to  an 
altar,  wiiich  he  had  before  set  Uj),  in  his  way  tiiith- 
er.  Sweet  are  the  recollections  of  kindnesses  re- 
ceived ;  and  pleasant  the  memorials  of  mercies 
departed!  If  we  were  to  accustom  ourselves  to 
rear  tokens  of  remembrance  for  every  assistance 
which  we  derive  from  God,  and  to  erect  an  altar 
where  we  receive  a  mercy,  how  many  evidences 
for  good  would  be  presented  in  the  retrospection 
of  our  lives ;  and  the  review  of  the  past  would 
create  confidence  for  the  future.  The  moss  might 
grow  over  the  pillar,  and  the  fire  of  the  altar  would 
go  out;  but  the  inscription  would  be  fresh  on  the 
3 


26  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

tablet  of  memoiy,  and  gratitude  would  kindle  the 
purer  flame  of  affection  in  the  heart.  Thus  Abram 
reared  an  altar  in  his  way  to  Egypt ;  and  found  it 
again  on  his  return.  Thus  Jacob  elevated  a  pillar 
at  Bethel,  after  his  vision  of  God  ;  and  with  what 
feelings  did  he  revisit  it,  when  he  was  delivered 
from  his  fears,  and  increased  in  his  blessings ! 
Thus  "  Samuel  took  a  stone,  and  set  it  up  between 
Mizpah  and  Shen,  and  called  the  name  of  it  Eben- 
ezer,  saying,  '  Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped  us!'" 
It  is  not  necessary  that  we  should  erect  tliese  out- 
ward memorials:  but  let  the  pillar  be  raised  in  our 
bosotLS,  and  the  inscription  read  in  our  lives! 


DESTRUCTION  OF   SODOM. 

We  have  selected  for  our  contemplation  the 
moment  when  the  attention  is  arrested  by  the  con- 
viction of  impending  danger;  and  the  pointof  his- 
tory where  the  interest  of  the  reader  is  excited  in 
anticipation  of  its  issue.  The  sacred  writer  discov- 
ers in  this,  as  in  every  record  of  his  pen,  singular 
ability  in  touching  the  heart;  while  he  preserves 
a  wonderful  simplicity  throughout  the  whole  nar- 
ration. All  is  nature  in  his  descriptions ;  and  his 
assertions  bear  on  their  very  face  the  impress  of 
truth. 

With  what  grandeur  the  scene  opens  upon  us. 
The  day  dawns,  which  is  to  vanish  from  the  eyes 
of  the  wicked  before  its  meridian  ;  and  they  gaze, 
unconscious  of  danger,  upon  the  earliest  glories  of 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  27 

the  east,  which  are  so  soon,  as  it  respects  them,  to 
be  extinguished  in  eternal  night.  Lot  emerges 
from  the  polluted  scenes  of  depravity,  an  instance 
of  the  goodness  of  God  ;  and  escapes  the  desolation 
which  demonstrated  his  just  severity.  '■''And  when 
tht  morning  arose,  then  the  angels  hastened  Lot,  say- 
ing, Arise,  take  thy  wife,  and  thy  two  daughters, 
which  are  here  ;  lest  thou  be  consumed  in  the  iniquity 
of  the  city." 

The  night  is  the  season  of  alarm  and  of  danger. 
As  the  gloom  thickens,  every  object  wears  a  por- 
tentous aspect.  Its  solemnity  deepens  the  cloud 
of  affliction;  and  throws  a  darker  shade  over  sor- 
row itself.  It  is  the  time  for  awful  deeds.  Then 
the  murderer  stalks  abroad  to  destroy  ;  and  his 
"  feet  are  swift  to  shed  blood."  Then  the  adul- 
tress  spreads  her  toils  to  ensnare.  Then  violence 
is  prepared  to  "smite  with  the  fist  of  wickedness  ;" 
and  the  thief  treads  softly,  that  he  may  "break 
through  and  steal."  Then  the  sinner  hastens  to 
iniquity,  in  imaginary  security  under  the  covert  of 
midnight,  and  says,  in  the  ignorance  and  presump- 
tion of  his  heart,  "Tush  I  God  doth  not  see!"  It 
was  at  night,  that  the  destroying  angel  passed 
through  Egypt  to  slay  the  first-born :  at  night, 
that  the  sword  of  the  Lord  penetrated  the  camp  of 
Assyria,  and  destroyed  an  hundred  and  eighty-five 
thousand  men  :  at  night,  that  the  shadow  of  a  hand 
wrote  on  the  wall  of  Belshazzar's  palace,  the  de- 
parture of  his  kingdom,  the  close  of  his  glories  and 
of  his  life  together,  and  the  scrutiny  of  justice  with 


28  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

its  perilous  consequences.  But  the  day  has  ever 
been  regarded  as  the  season  of  security.  The  first 
ray  of  the  morning  chases  the  phantoms  of  the 
imagination,  and  terminates  the  horrors  of  fancy. 
Liglit  discovers  real  peri!,  and  bears  with  it  the 
means  of  escape.  When  the  day  breaks  upon  us, 
it  scatters  peace,  and  joy,  and  safety  in  its  smiles. 
Ah,  how  little  do  we  know  where  danger  lurks, 
and  when  the  dream  of  happiness  shall  be  broken! 
Sodom  escapes  the  peril  of  the  night,  to  fall  by  un- 
expected vengeance  in  the  morning!  '■''Jind  while 
he  lingered^'' — who  that  had  a  heart  to  feel,  and 
connections  to  relinquish,  could  refrain? — "tvhile 
he  lingered,  the  men  laid  hold  ujion  his  hand,  and 
upon  the  hand  of  his  u'ife,  and  upon  the  hand  of  his 
two  daughters ;  the  Lord  heing  merciful  unto  him : 
and  they  brought  him  forth,  and  set  him  without  the 
city.^^  A  gentle  constraint  is  laid  upon  him  to 
snatch  him  from  ruin.  It  is  thus  that  we  feel  a  di- 
vine power  gently  attracting  us  from  the  world  to 
the  cross :  we  are  drawn  with  "  the  cords  of  love  :" 
no  violence  is  imposed  upon  our  will  in  leading  us 
from  the  paths  of  death:  but  we  feel  and  acknowl- 
edge, that  it  is  HE,  "  who  worketh  in  us  to  will  and 
to  do  his  own  good  pleasure."  It  is  thus,  when 
our  wandering  hearts  "follow  lying  vanities,  and 
forsake  their  own  mercies,"  that  God  sends  some 
gentle  and  salutary  affliction  to  chastise  our  folly 
and  to  bring  our  spirit  home  to  its  rest. 

"And  it  came  to  pass,  ivhen  they  had  brought  them 
forth  abroad,  that  he  said.  Escape  for  thy  life ;  look 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  29 

not  behind  thee^  neither  stay  thou  in  all  the  plain ; 
escape  to  the  mountain.,  lest  thou  he  consumed." 
Judgment  once  awakened,  is  not  always  directed 
to  discriminate  characters  ;  and  the  righteous  are 
sometimes  permitted  to  suffer  in  the  general  ca- 
lamity. It  is  not  safe  to  dwell  in  the  tents  of  sin ; 
and  those  who  take  up  their  abode  in  the  taberna- 
cles of  the  wicked,  must  be  content  to  share  their 
portion,  and  their  punishment — at  least,  in  the 
present  life.  Nothing  short  of  a  total  separation 
from  them  can  afford  security  :  for  to  linger  on  the 
plain  is  as  hazardous  as  to  tarry  in  the  city.  ^^And 
Lot  said  unto  them,  O,  not  so,  my  Lord."  In  the 
very  midst  of  danger,  and  while  the  cloud  of  ruin 
hangs  over  his  head,  self-willed  man  cannot  refrain 
from  opposing  his  opinions  to  the  arrangements  of 
Deity;  and  it  must  be  "according  to  his  mind,"  or 
be  will  scarcely  be  satisfied  with  his  deliverance. 
^^  Behold  now,  thy  servant  hath  found  grace  in  thy 
sight" — should  he  therefore  presume? — and  thou 
hast  magnijied  thy  mercy,  which  thou  hast  showed 
unto  me  in  saving  my  life  ;"  should  he  not  therefore 
be  satisfied  ?  Is  the  goodness  of  God  a  reason  why 
he  should  tempt  his  forbearance?  ^^  and  I  cannot 
escape  to  the  mountain" — why  not?  What  shall 
hinder  when  God  leads  the  way  ?  what  can  suc- 
cessfully oppose,  when  he  commands? — ^'lest  some 
evil  take  me,  and  1  die  I"  O  thou  of  little  faith! 
wherefore  didst  thou  doubt?  Was  not  he  who 
led  thee  forth  from  the  midst  of  a  people  given 
over  to  utter  desolation,  strong  to  deliver  ?    Was 


30  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

he  not  able  to  preserve  thee  ?  And  had  he  not 
given  a  tacit  pledge  of  security,  in  the  very  com- 
mand which  he  issued  ?  ^^  Behold  now,  this  city  is 
near  tojlee  unto,  and  it  is  a  little  one'''' — it  is  a  small 
request  that  I  prefer,  in  comparison  with  the  un- 
solicited mercy  which  thou  hast  already  manifest- 
ed ;  or,  it  is  a  little  city,  and  may  well  be  spared  in 
so  wide  and  general  a  destruction  as  thine  offended 
justice  meditates — "  Oh,  let  me  escape  thither,  (is  it 
not  a  little  one  ?j  and  my  soul  shall  live.^^  What  is 
the  punishment  which  awaits  the  man  who  dares 
to  lift  his  little  plans  to  a  competition  with  the  wis- 
dom of  Deity  ?  Let  us  adore  the  long  suffering  of 
God  !  Heaven  lends  a  gracious  ear  to  this  suppli- 
cation :  "  and  he  said  unto  him.  See,  I  have  accepted 
thee  concerning  this  thing  also,  that  I  ivill  not  over- 
throw this  city,  for  the  which  thou  hast  spoken^ 
How  consistent  is  this  with  the  character  of 
God,  who  delighteth  to  have  mercy,  and  to  for- 
give. Lot  had  an  high  gratification  in  seeing 
this  little  object  of  his  compassion  escape  the  de- 
vastation of  its  vicinity,  if  benevolence  urged  his 
plea;  but  if  selfishness  dictated  it,  as  the  narrative 
seems  to  insinuate,  he  was  greatly  disap])ointed  : 
for  although  his  request  was  granted,  his  terrors 
suffered  him  not  to  derive  from  it  the  advantage 
which  he  proposed  ;  since  he  afterwards  abandon- 
ed the  retreat  which  he  had  chosen,  and  fled  to 
the  mountain,  whither  God  had  first  directed  him, 
"for  he  feared  to  dwell  in  Zoar."  ^'•Haste  thee,  es- 
cape thither  ;^^  thy  presence  disarms  my  wrath,  and 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  31 

withholds  my  righteous  vengeance ;  for  I  cannot 
do  any  thing  till  thou  he  come  thither^  Behold  the 
value  and  importance  of  one  righteous  man!  It 
was  the  lip  of  infalhble  truth  which  said  of  his  dis- 
ciples, "Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth!"  "  T/iere- 
fore,^^  in  remembrance  of  the  successful  plea  of 
Lot,  "//je  name  of  the  city  was  called  Zoar  f'  which 
signifies  little,  and  relates  to  the  argument  which 
its  intercessor  used.  Most  of  the  names  given  to 
persons,  and  to  things,  in  the  scriptures,  bear  a 
reference  to  some  signal  circumstances,  more  near- 
ly, or  remotely  connected  with  them. 

'•'■The  sun  was  risen  upon  the  earth,  ivhen  Lot  en- 
tered into  ZoarP  This  calm  is  perfectly  natural, 
and  agrees  with  ahnost  every  account  transmitted 
to  us  of  tempests,  earthquakes,  and  great  convul- 
sions of  nature.  We  know  that  the  wind  usually 
falls,  and  that  there  is  a  profound  serenity  diffused 
over  the  atmosphere,  before  a  storm.  The  former 
part  of  that  day  in  which  Lisbon  was  destroyed  by 
an  earthquake,  was  uncommonly  fine  ;  and  the 
danger  was  not  even  apprehended,  tdl  an  unusual 
subterraneous  noise,  and  a  slight  trembling  of  the 
ground,  preceded,  for  a  few  moments,  the  first 
great  shock,  which  almost  levelled  the  whole  city. 
This  same  agitation  of  the  earth  was  almost  uni- 
versal, and  extended  nearly  over  the  whole  globe ; 
and  in  every  place  where  it  was  felt,  the  same 
tranquillity  was  observed  to  reign, before  the  calam- 
ity was  endured.  This  calm,  however,  is  unspeak- 
ably dreadful!    Who  can  read  this  single  verse 


32  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

without  shuddering  ?  As  the  destruction  was  un- 
expected, it  was  the  more  terrible ;  and  as  it  was 
sudden,  it  admitted  of  no  escape.  The  sons-in- 
law  of  Lot  mocked  his  admonitions  ;  and  they  were 
roused  to  a  sense  of  their  importance  and  truth, 
only  by  the  hand  of  death.  Let  this  consideration 
prepare  us  for  a  still  greater  event,  in  the  solemni- 
ties of  which  we  must  all  participate  ;  and  which 
will  be  equally  sudden  and  unexpected  ;  for  "as  it 
was  in  the  days  of  Lot,  even  so  shall  the  coming  of 
the  Son  of  man  be  !" 

"  Then  the  Lord  rained  upon  Sodom  and  upon 
Gomorrah^  hrimstone  and  fire  from  the  Lord  out  of 
heaven,  and  he  overthrew  those  cities,  and  all  the 
plain,  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  cities,  and  that 
which  grew  upon  the  ground.'^''  Some  commentators 
translate  the  words  "brimstone  and  fire,"  5mn5fo7ie 
infiamed ;  and  the  interpretation  which  they  build 
upon  this  translation  is,  that  brimstone  inflamed, 
in  the  Hebrew  wStyle  of  writing,  signifies  neither 
more  nor  less  than  lightning.  It  is  reasonable  to 
conclude,  that  this  lightning  penetrated  so  far  into 
the  veins  of  bitumen,  with  which  these  plains  are 
known  to  be  impregnated,  as  to  enkindle  the  com- 
bustible matter ;  which  would  quickly  communi- 
cate its  heat  and  flame  to  the  cities,  and  to  the 
whole  country,  more  entirely  and  expeditiously 
than  the  lava  of  a  burning  mountain  lays  waste 
the  lands  over  which  it  flows :  and  after  consum- 
ing all  that  was  capable  of  such  a  destruction, 
formed  the  heavy,  fetid,  unwholesome  lake,  called 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  33 

the  Dead  Sea,  from  its  wide  expansion,  and  the 
stillness  of  its  waters.  Justin  observes,  respecting 
this  sea,  tliat  it  cannot  be  moved  by  the  winds,  by 
reason  of  the  hirge  quantity  of  bitumen  immersed 
in  it ;  which  also  renders  it  incapable  of  being  nav- 
igated. The  same  remark  will  not  be  found  to 
apply  to  the  same  sea,  in  the  present  day;  as  we 
have  instances  of  some  modern  travellers  having 
ventured  to  bathe  in  it:  but  this  also  may  be  ac- 
counted for  on  the  same  principle;  the  ditninution 
of  the  bitumen  ;  which  is  continually  removed,  by 
persons  on  the  spot,  as  it  emerges  from  this  singu- 
lar lake.  Neither  is  it  true  that  no  bird  will  adven- 
ture to  stretch  his  wing  across  it,  as  some  ancient 
writers  have  asserted — for  many  have  been  ob- 
served to  sport  along  its  dreary  banks :  but  the 
salt  with  which  it  is  impregnated  is  inimical  to  veg- 
etation ;  its  waves  retain  a  sufficient  degree  of 
malignity  to  endanger  the  health  of  those  who  are 
rash  enough  to  plunge  into  its  unnatural  waters  ; 
and  it  retains  a  sufficient  degree  of  desolation, 
to  justify  the  description  of  the  destruction  sug- 
gested in  the  present  Lecture,  and  to  confirm  the 
general  account  of  antiquity,  making  a  reasonable 
allowance  for  the  alterations  which  time  may  be 
supposed  to  have  effiicted. 

^^  But  his  wife   looked  back  from  behind  him,  and 
she  became  a  pillar  ofsalt.^^     A  learned  writer*  ob- 


*  Dr.  Taylor,  in  his  Scheme  of  Scripture  Divinity. 
4 


34  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

serves,  "  The  sulphureous  storm  did  not  begin  to 
fall  upon  Sodom,  till  Lot  was  safely  arrived  at 
Zoar.  But  his  wife  looked  back  hefore  he  reached 
Zoar:  for  she  looked  back  from  behind  hini,  as  he 
was  going  to  Zoar.  When  she  looked  back,  Sodom 
and  its  plains  appeared  as  pleasant  as  before.  She 
looked  back  with  affection  to  the  place,  and  regret 
at  leaving  it:  according  to  the  import  of  the  orig- 
inal word.  This  implied  unbelief"  She  wavered 
— "she  stopped  by  the  way,  and  left  her  husband 
to  go  by  himself" — in  the  fluctuations  of  her  mind, 
"  fche  would  proceed  no  farther ;  and  might  be  at  a 
considerable  distance  from  Zoar,  and  so  near  to 
Sodom,  as,  probably,  to  be  involved  in  the  terrible 
shower,  and  thereby  turned  into  a  nitro-sulphure- 
ous  pillar :" — or  at  least  to  be  suffocated  by  it,  and 
incrusted  with  it.  "This  gives  proper  force  to 
our  Lord's  admonition,  Rememher  Lofs  wife.  Let 
the  judgment  of  God  upon /ler,  warn  you  of  the 
folly  and  danger  of  hankering  after,  and  being 
loath  to  part  with,  small  and  tem[)orai  things,  when 
your  life  and  happiness,  the  greatest  and  most 
lasting  concerns,  are  at  stake." 


SARAH'S  GRAVE. 

Humanity  requires  us  to  drop  a  tear,  also, 
over  the  grave  of  the  once  lovely  Sarah,  who 
"died  in  Kirjath-arba."  Twelve  years  after  the 
'^rial  of  his  faith,  tiiis  heavy  stroke  of  calamity 
7ell  upon  him;  "and  Abraham  came  to  mourn  for 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  35 

Sarah,  and  to  weep  for  her."  Let  not  the  unfeel- 
ing and  the  gay,  break  in  upon  the  sacred  privacy 
of  domestic  sorrow  !  It  is  not  the  semblance  of 
grief  which  spreads  a  cloud  over  the  forehead  of 
yonder  venerable  patriarch  :  real  and  unaffected  an- 
guish causes  those  tears  to  flow.  She  had  been  long 
the  companion  of  his  life— she  had  shared  his  joys 
and  sorrows— she  had  sojourned  in  tents  with  him, 
a  stranger  in  a  strange  land— she  had  regarded 
him  with  fondness  up  to  her  hundred  and  twenty- 
seventh  year.  Her  communion  and  friendship  had 
sweetened  his  distresses,  and  lightened  his  labours. 
The  dissolving  of  this  long  connection  was  loosen- 
ing the  fibres  which  entwined  about  his  heart; 
and  while  he  exhibited  the  resignation  of  a  saint,  he 
felt  as  a  man.  Before  "the  cave  of  the  field  of 
Machpelah"  closes  its  mouth  forever  upon  the 
precious  dust,  let  the  young  and  the  beautiful  come 
and  look,  for  the  last  time,  upon  the  person  whose 
loveliness  had  kindled  desire  in  every  bosom,  and 
had  more  than  once  ensnared  her  husband.  Let 
them  gaze  upon  the  dishonour  of  that  cheek,  which 
even  time  had  respected,  and  age  had  spared. 
Let  them  learn  a  lesson  of  humility,  while  they  be- 
hold the  triumphs  of  death,  and  hear  a  husband 
entreating  "  a  possession  of  a  burying  place,  that  he 
may  bury  his  dead  out  of  his  sight,"  and  hide  that 
form  from  his  eyes,  which  he  had  never  before  be- 
held but  with  rapturous  delight ! 


86  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

PATRIARCHAL  FAITH,    or  TRIAL  OF  ABRAM. 

It  is  impossible  to  pass  through  Canaan  without 
turning  aside  to  the  land   of  Moriah,  and  contem- 
plating  the   sacred   mountain  on  which   a  patri- 
arch's  faith    triumphed    over   a    father's  feelings. 
According  to  the  promise  of  God,  Isaac  was  born 
when  Abraham  was  an  hundred  years  old.  '  He 
had  seen  his  son  preserved   from  the  perils  of  in- 
fancy.    His  mother  had  gazed  with  unspeakable 
pleasure  upon  her  child — the  son  of  her  vows,  who 
was  now  fast  pressing  towards  manhood.     The 
parents  of  this  amiable  youth  were  looking  for- 
ward to  a  peaceful  dismission  from  the  toils  of  life, 
and  to  the  happy  termination  of  a  tranquil  old  age. 
Abraham  "  planted  a   grove  in  Beersheba,"  and 
rested  under  its  shadow.     This  quiet  retreat,  alas, 
is  not  im}>ervious  to  sorrow  !     This  delightful  se- 
renity  resembles   the   stillness  of  the   air   which 
usually  precedes  a  tempest — it  bodes  approaching 
ti'ial.     "And  it  came  to  pass  after  these  things,  that 
God  did  tempt  Abraham,  and  said  unto  him,  Take 
now  thy   soit,  thine  only  son,  Isaac,  whom  thou 
lovest,  and  get  thee  into  the  land  of  Moriah ;  and 
oifer  him   there  for  a  burnt  offering  u})on  one  of 
the  mountains  which  I  shall  tell  thee  of."    What  a 
command  was  this  I     To  stain  his  hand  with  the 
blood  of  a  lamb  which  he  had  fed,  would  be  a  task 
to  a  feeling  mind ;  but   the   requisition   is  for   a 
"Son."      To  select  one  from  a  numerous  family, 
would  be  a  cruel  effort.      Let  the  mother  look 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  37 

round  upon  her  children  when  they  are  assembled 
before  her  Hke  a  flock,  and  say   which  she  could 
spare   from    among   them!     But   the   demand  is, 
"take  thine  onljj  son" — in  whom  the  life  of  both 
parents  is  bound  up.     To  part  with  an  only  child 
for  a  season,  opens  the  fountain  of  a  mother's  tears, 
and  adds  to  the  grey  hairs  of  his  father.     To  lose 
him  by  death,  is  to  cause  them  to  go  bitterly  in  the 
anguish  of  their  soul  all  their  days.     What  was  it, 
then,  to  offer  an  only  son  as  a  sacrifice,  and  to  be 
himself  the  priest  who  should  plunge  the  knife  in- 
to his   bosom  ?     But  he  obeys — obeys  without  a 
murmur!     He  rises  early  in  the  morning  to  immo- 
late his  child,  and  to  offer,  on  the  altar  of  God,  all 
that  he  held  most  dear  in  this  world.    On  the  third 
day,   the  destined    mountain  marks  its   elevation 
along  the  line  of  the  horizon,  and  meets  the  eye  of 
the  afflicted  parent.     The  servants  are  not  permit- 
ted to  witness  the   awful  scene,  the  solemnity  of 
which  they  might  disturb  by  lamentations — or  the 
execution  of  which  they  might  prevent  by  force — 
or,  wanting  their  master's  faith,  might  draw  from 
it  inferences  unfavourable  to  religion.     At  this  mo- 
ment, to  awaken  in  his  bosom   extreme   torture, 
"  Isaac  spake  unto  Abraham  his  father,  and  said, 
My  father :  and  he  said,  here  am  I,  my  son.     And 
he  said.  Behold,  the  fire  and  the  wood  ;  but  where 
is  the  lamb  for  a  burnt  offering?     And  Abraham 
Baid,  My  son,  God  shall  provide  himself  a  lamb  for 
a  burnt  offering :  so  they  went  both  of  them  to- 
gether."   But  we  will  no  longer  attempt  to  scent 


88  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

the  violet,  and  to  paint  the  rainbow.  We  must 
draw  a  veil  over  the  scene  ;  for  who  can  enter  into 
a  father's  anguish,  as  he  raised  his  hand  against 
his  child  ?  and  who  shall  be  bold  enough  to  attempt 
a  description  of  his  rapture,  when  Heaven,  which 
had  put  his  faith  to  so  severe  a  trial,  commanded 
him  to  forbear,  and  indeed  provided  itself  a  victim? 


THE  ORPHAN    BOY. 

How  interesting  he  appears  to  every  feeling 
mind  !  A  child  robbed  of  his  mother,  excites  uni- 
versal commiseration,  and  commands  affection  from 
every  bosom.  We  look  forwards  with  anxiety  to 
every  future  period  of  his  life  ;  and  our  prayers  and 
our  hopes  attend  every  step  of  his  journey.  We 
mingle  our  tears  with  his,  on  the  grave  of  her, 
whose  maternal  heart  has  ceased  to  beat;  for  we 
feel  that  he  is  bereaved  of  the  friend  and  guide  of 
his  youth  !  His  father  would,  but  cannot,  supply 
her  loss.  In  vain  the  whole  circle  of  his  friendships 
blend  their  efforts  to  alleviate  his  sorrows,  and  to 
fill  the  place  occupied  by  departed  worth:  a  moth- 
er must  be  missed  every  moment,  by  a  child  who 
has  ever  known,  and  rightly  valued  one,  when 
she  sleeps  in  the  grave.  No  hand  feels  so  soft  as 
her's — no  voice  sounds  so  sweet — no  smile  is  so 
pleasant  I  Never  shall  he  find  again,  in  this  wide 
wilderness,  such  sympathy,  such  fondness,  such 
fidelity,  such  tenderness,  as  he  experienced  from 


BEAUTIES     OF  COLLYER.  39 

his  mother !  The  wliole  world  are  moved  with 
com{)assion  for  that  motherless  child:  but  the 
whole  world  cannot  supply  her  place  to  him  ! 


THE   GOD   OF   NATURE. 

Why  does  my  heart  beat  with  pulsations  of  rap- 
ture, when  my  eye   measures    yonder  heavens,  or 
glides  over  hills  and  vaUies  along  the   surface  of 
this  beautiful  world?    When  the  dew  sparkles  up- 
on the  ground,  a  kindred  tear  glitters  upon  my 
countenance  :  but  it  is  not  the  tear  of  sorrow;  it 
springs  from  a  well  of  unspeakable  pleasure  which 
I  feel  flowing  within  my  bosom !     Is  it  merely  the 
softness  or  the  grandeur  of  the  scenery  by  which  I 
am   surrounded,   that   affects   me?     No!  but  my 
spirit  meets  a  Parent  walking  invisibly  on  the  globe 
that   he  formed,    and  working  manifestly  on  my 
right  hand  and  on  my  left.    All  these  lovely  objects 
are  the  productions  of  his  skill,  the  result  of  his 
wisdom,  the  tokens  of  his  benevolence,  the  imper- 
fect images  of  his  greatness.     Every  thing  demon- 
strates the  being  and  perfections  of  Deity.     I  see 
him    empurpling  the    east  before  the  sun  in  the 
morning,  and  wheeling   the  orb   on  which  I  live 
round  upon  its  axis.     I  behold  him  throwing  the 
mantle  of  darkness  over  me  in  the  evening,  and 
kindling  the  skies  into  radiance  by  unveihng  suns 
and  worlds  without  number  and  without  end.  I  gath- 
er  a  flower,  and  am  revived  by  its  fragrance  ;  I  see 
shade  melting  into  shade  infinitely  above  any  com- 


40  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

bination  of  colours,  which  art  can  produce.  To 
aid  the  organ  of  vision,  I  inspect,  through  the  mi- 
croscope, an  insect.  I  see  it  painted  into  a  thou- 
sand brilliances,  and  displaying  a  thousand  beau- 
ties, imperceptible  to  the  naked  eye.  I  stand  con- 
vinced that  no  mortal  pencil  could  delineate  the 
loveliness  of  its  form.  I  perceive  a  grain  of  corn 
peeping  above  the  earth.  It  scarcely  rears  its  light 
green  head  over  the  ground.  I  visit  it  day  after 
day,  and  month  after  month.  It  gradually  in- 
creases. It  is  an  inch — it  is  a  foot  in  height.  Now 
it  assumes  a  new  shape.  It  vegetates  afresh.  The 
ear  begins  to  form — to  expand — to  fill.  Now  it 
has  attained  its  growth — it  ripens — it  is  matured. 
I  have  narrowly  watched  the  progress  of  vegeta- 
tion ;  and  have  seen  its  advancement.  I  beheld 
every  day  adding  something  to  its  height,  and  to  its 
perfection  :  but  the  hand  which  raised  it  from  "  the 
blade  to  the  ear,  and  to  the  "  full  corn  in  the  ear," 
escaped  my  researches.  I  find  a  crysalis,  and 
watch  the  secret  movements  of  nature.  The  in- 
sect is  shrouded  in  a  living  tomb.  It  begins  to  stir 
— it  increases  in  strength — and  the-butterfly  breaks 
from  its  confinement.  Meeting  with  ten  thousand 
such  wonderful  productions  every  day — I  recog- 
nise in  them  the  great  Spirit  that  animates  all  cre- 
ated nature,  and  I  am  compelled  to  acknowledge, 
"  O  Lord  our  Governor !  how  excellent  is  thy  name 
in  all  the  earth ;  and  thou  hast  set  thy  glory  above 
the  heavens." 

I  pass  on  to  the  animal  creation.     There  I  per- 
ceive other  operations,  and  am  overwhelmed  with 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  41 

new  wondeis.  Tlie  principle  on  which  they  act, 
and  wliich  is  termed  instinct,  is  the  gift  of  God  ; 
and  it  appears  to  differ  from  the  immortal  principle 
in  man,  in  its  confinement  to  a  certain  inferior 
standard,  and  in  its  direction  to  one  particular  pur- 
suit, adapted  to  the  peculiar  nature  and  exi- 
gencies of  its  possessor.  I  see  the  timid  acquiring 
courage  while  they  have  a  maternal  part  to  per- 
form;  and,  forgetting  to  measure  the  disproportion 
between  their  own  strength  and  that  of  their  an- 
tagonist, holdly  assaulting  those  superior  animals, 
which  designedly  or  unintentionally,  disturb  the 
repose  of  their  young.  Their  instinct  enables  them 
to  perform  those  things  to  which  it  is  particularly 
adapted,  with  more  order  and  facility  than  man, 
v.ith  his  superior  understanding  can  accomplish  ; 
and,  with  the  simple  tools  of  nature,  they  effect 
that  which  the  complex  machinery  of  art  cannot 
produce.  All  the  animate  creation,  from  the  ele- 
phant, and  "  that  great  leviathan,"  among  animals, 
to  the  bee,  and  the  ant,  among  insects,  still  con- 
duct us  to  the  invisible  God ;  and  we  say  "  The 
earth  is  full  of  thy  riches  ;  so  is  this  great  and  wide 
sea,  wherein  are  things  creeping  innumerable,  both 
small  and  great  beasts.  O  Lord,  how  manifold 
are  thy  works!  in  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them 
all." 


42  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

HUMANITY  IS  CONCERNED   IN  THE  SPREAD 
OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

One  should  have  imagined  that  the  gospel  of  Je- 
sus could  have  no  enemies.  It  breathes  only  peace. 
It  lias  but  one  subject — to  promote  the  felicity  of 
mankintl.  It  sweetens  every  connection  of  human 
life.  It  strengthens  the  cause  of  philanthropy.  The 
only  favour  it  entreats  is,  that  men  would  love 
themselves:  and  while  it  pours  a  thousand  bless- 
ings on  the  present  transient  existence,  and  light- 
ens all  the  trials  of  the  way,  it  shows  wretched,  err- 
ing man,  "  the  path  of  life."  And  yet  every  man's 
hand  is  lifted  up  against  it !  From  its  birth  to  the 
present  hour,  every  age  has  blended  all  its  wisdom 
and  all  its  force,  to  crush  Christianity.  Had  it  re- 
quired the  man  to  sacrifice  "  his  first-born  for  his 
trangression,  the  fruit  of  his  body  for  the  sin  of  his 
soul" — who  would  have  wondered  that  nature 
should  rise  up  against  it? — Yet,  strange  to  say,  the 
horrible  religion  of  the  Gentiles,  which  actually  did 
require  this  unnatural  oflfering,  was  supported,  and 
defended  against  Christianity,  with  vehement  ob- 
stinacy. The  rage  of  man,  on  the  one  side,  ex- 
hausted itself  in  defence  of  altars  on  which  their 
children  had  been  immolated  ;  and  on  the  other, 
was  directed  against  a  religion  which  hastened  to 
overthrow  these  blood-stained  altars,  and  which 
said,  "  Suflier  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and 
forbid  them  not ;  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  I"— -Had  it  destroyed  the  peace  and  exis- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  43 

tence  of  society;  had  it  scattered  war  and  blood- 
shed over  the  earth  ;  had  it  trampled  on  the  dear- 
est rights  of  human  nature— why  then,  some  rea- 
son might  be  given  for  the  wrath  of  man  against 
it.     But  it  disseminates  "  peace  and   good  will  to 
man,"  abroad  upon  earth,  while  it  brings  in  a  rev- 
enue of  "  glory  to  God."     We  can  take  its  most  fu- 
rious  persecutor  by  the   hand,   when   he    raves, 
"  Away  with  it  from  the^earth  !"  and  say,  "Why  ? 
What  evil  hath  it  done  ?"    And  he  shall  be  unable 
to  assign  a  single  reason  for  his  conduct:  unable 
to  lay  one  sin  to  its  charge  :  unable  lo  prove  that 
in  any  one  instance  it  is  injurious  to  society :  una- 
ble to  deny  that  it  has  been  productive  of  the  most 
beneficial  effects— that  it  has  removed  all  the  clouds 
of  heathenism.— that  it  has  extinguished  the  fires 
through  which  wretched  parents  caused  their  chil- 
dren to  pass,  and  in  which  the  fruit  of  their  body 
was  consumed— that  it  has  given  to  the  world  a 
new  and  perfect   code  of    morality — that  it  has 
thrown  open  the  gates  of  mortality — that  it  has  re- 
moved the  bitterness  of  death — and  that  it  has  es- 
tablished, solely  and  unaided,  the  doctrine  of  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead:  he  shall  be  compelled  to 
admit  all  this,  and   yet,   without  a  single  reason, 
merely  from  his  natural  enmity  to  it,  he  will  con- 
tinue to  despise,  to  reject,  and  to  persecute  it !  Hu- 
manity is  concerned  in  the  progress  of  this  reli- 
gion :  Humanity  raises  her  voice  in  favour  of  rev- 
elation, and  entreats,  "  Rise  up,  Lord,  let  thine  en- 
emies be  scattered ;  and  let  them  that  hate  thee, 
flee  before  thee!" 


44  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

MAN  THE  SAME  IN  ALL  AGES. 

Customs  change  with  years.  Yet  is  man  in  the 
present  day,  what  he  was  in  ages  that  are  passed  ; 
only  he  was  surrounded  by  different  scenes,  he  was 
led  by  different  habits.  His  peculiar  situation,  his 
local  circumstances,  exist  no  longer  :  but  he  had 
the  same  principles  common  to  human  nature,  the 
same  feelings,  the  same  necessities,  the  same  ex- 
pectations. Our  fathers  felt,  like  ourselves,  the 
pleasures  of  hope,  the  anguish  of  disappointment, 
the  pantings  of  suspense,  the  throbbings  of  joy,  the 
pangs  of  fear.  They  lived  uncertain  of  the  future. 
They  trembled  as  they  approached  the  brink  of 
time.  The  world  wliich  they  now  inhabit,  and  the 
mysteries  of  which  are  now  laid  apow  to  them,  was 
once  as  secret,  and  as  much  an  object  of  the  min- 
gled emotions  of  apprehension  and  of  hope,  to  them 
as  to  us.  There  were  moments  when  their  faith 
was  not  in  lively  exercise,  and  when  the  fear  of 
death  was  as  powerfully  felt  in  their  bosoms  as  in 
our  own.  Then  they  fled  to  this  word  for  support, 
and  derived  from  it  the  sweetest  consolation.  Yes, 
— and  we  are  hastening  to  be  what  they  are.  Af- 
ter a  few  years,  we  shall  join  their  society.  We 
are  floating  down  the  same  stream,  over  which 
their  vessels  have  already  passed:  borne  along  by 
the  same  current,  we  sail  between  the  same  wind- 
ing banks,  pass  through  the  same  straits,  meet  with 
the  same  rocks  and  quicksands,  and  are  agitated 
by  the  same  tempests:  but  they  have  safely  an- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  45 

chored  in  the  haven,  and  we  are  stretching  all  our 
canvass  to  make  the  same  point  of  destination,  that 
with  them,  we  may  be  sheltered  from  the  storm 
forever !  We  avail  ourselves  of  the  direcdons 
which  they  have  left  behind  them,  because  in  all 
ages  "  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  faith"  is  the 
same.  He  will  be  to  future  generations,  what  he 
was  to  them,  what  he  is  to  us.  When  our  poster- 
ity shall  trample  upon  our  dust,  when  our  very 
names  shall  have  perished  from  the  record  of  time 
when  new  faces  shall  appear  on  this  wide  and 
busy  scene  of  action,  the  name  of  God  will  remain 
to  our  children,  the  same  as  it  appears  this  night  to 
us,  the  same  as  it  was  announced  to  Moses  from 
the  bush  which  burned  with  fire  and  was  not  con- 
sumed  "  I  AM  THAT  I  AM  !" 


ONE  MAN  DIFFERS  FROM  ANOTHER. 

In  respect  of  talents,  man  differs  from  man. 
We  sometimes  meet  with  a  spirit  emerging  from 
its  native  obscurity,  and  attracting  the  admiration 
of  the  world.  Every  thing  conspired  to  throw  the 
man  into  the  shade.  Poverty  frowned  upon  his 
birth,  and  shut  the  doors  of  knowledge  against 
him.  When  he  entered  life,  he  mingled  unnoticed 
with  the  crowd.  But  none  could  close  the  book 
of  nature  before  him,  and  no  disadvantages  could 
suppress  the  vigour  of  a  spirit,  born  to  rise,  and  to 
astonish.     Following  only  the  benignity  of  nature, 


46  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

he  brings  froin  his  mind  such  ample  stores  of  ob- 
servation, and  discovers  so  much  native  genius,  that 
he  ascends  at  once  to  eminence  ;  and  like  a  sun 
veiled  from  his  rising,  reveals  at  once  to  the  world 
his  glory  in  its  noontide  brightness.  Hard  by  him 
stands  one,  forced  into  notice.  He  was  born  no- 
ble and  afliuent.  Every  possible  mean  ofimprov- 
ment  was  put  into  hishand,and  the  book  of  knowl- 
edge was  opened  to  his  view.  No  pains  were 
spared,  no  expense  was  withheld,  in  his  education. 
And  yet  his  very  elevation  is  painful.  It  is  that  of 
fortune,  and  not  that  of  nature.  He  is  always  placed 
in  a  conspicuous  situation,  to  be  always  despised  ; 
and  the  literary  advantages  which  he  enjoyed,  have 
been  unable  to  correct  the  deficiences  of  nature. 
They  descended  upon  his  unfruitful  mind,  like  the 
showers  of  the  spring  upon  the  sands  of  the  desert, 
which  imbibe  the  rain,  but  return  neither  grass  nor 
flower.  In  respect  of  literature,  one  man  dif- 
fers from  another.  Here  stands  a  favoured  son  of 
science,  who  has  access  to  nature  in  all  her  parts 
through  the  avenues  of  deep  and  learned  research. 
He  has  made  the  dead,  and  the  living,  contribute 
to  his  pleasure,  and  to  his  improvement.  He  has 
plundered  time  of  all  the  treasures,  which  he  had 
snatched  from  falling  empires,  and  rescued  from 
the  greedy  grave  of  oblivion.  And  he  moves  among 
his  fellow  men,  an  angel  for  illumination,  and  an 
oracle  for  wisdom.  There  stands  his  neighbour, 
gazing  with  unconscious  eyes  upon  the  page,  which 
he  is  devouring.    He  sees  no  beauty  in  that  ora- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  47 

tion — no  force  in  thai  train  of  reasoning — no  con- 
clusion in  that  demonstration — no  order  in  those 
starry  heavens.  All  access  to  the  tree  of  knowl- 
edge is  denied  to  him  ;  and  he  turns  from  the  page 
full  of  genius,  of  energy,  of  intelligence,  and  says, 
"I  cannot  read  it,  for  I  am  not  learned"  In  re- 
spect of  RAJVK  TIN  SOCIETY,  one  mau  differs  from 
another.  One  is  born  to  sway  a  sceptre,  and  to  rule 
a  powerful  empire.  Nations  tremble  at  his  frown, 
and  princes  are  his  servants.  His  navy  thunders 
along  every  hostile  shore,  and  the  sword  of  his 
army  is  drunk  with  the  blood  of  the  slain.  He  trav- 
els— and  a  whole  country  is  in  motion.  Harbin- 
gers precede  his  face,  guards  encompass  his  per- 
son, a  willing  people  bow  the  knee  to  him.  Not 
daring  to  lift  his  eyes,  yonder  peasant  retires,  as 
the  equipage  passes,  and  turns  his  rough  hand, 
rendered  hard  by  labour,  to  the  most  menial  servi- 
ces. He  eats  bread,  and  drinks  water,  with  heav- 
iness of  heart.  A  large  family  multiplies  upon  him. 
His  children  cry  with  hunger.  He  gives  them  all 
— he  divides  the  last  loaf  among  them,  and  returns 
himself  faint  to  the  labour  of  the  field,  without  tast- 
ing a  morsel,  lest  he  should  diminish  their  scanty 
pittance.  And  yet  he  is  also  a  child  of  humanity  ! 
In  respect  of  religious  principle,  one  man  dif- 
fers from  another.  Here,  is  a  man  who  receives 
every  blessing  as  the  gift  of  Heaven  with  thankful- 
ness, who  bends  with  lowly  resignation  under  the 
stroke  which  robs  iiim  of  his  comforts.  In  his  hab- 
itation, however  humble,  the  voice  of  prayer  and 


48  BEAUTIES  OF   COLLYER. 

of  praise  is  constantly  heard  ;  and  his  comforts, 
however  few,  are  augmented  by  the  benign  influ- 
ences of  piety.  There,  is  a  wretched  man,  deem- 
ed happy  by  the  world,  who  never  bowed  his  knee 
before  God  his  maker  ;  and  never  knew  a  gratifi- 
cation beyond  pampering  his  appetite,  and  amassing 
wealth.  And  yet  both  are  men,  and  equally  re- 
sponsible to  God. 


REASON  AND  REVELATION. 

We  are  indebted  to  God  himself,  for  all  the  in- 
formation which  we  possess,  in  relation  to  either 
his  nature  or  his  operations.  He  furnishes  the 
medium  through  which  he  is  seen  in  the  visible 
creation,  in  the  arrangements  of  providence,  in  the 
scheme  of  redemption  :  and  all  that  we  are  able  to 
comprehend  of  "  life  and  immortality,"  is  "brought 
to  light  by  the  gos[)el."  The  human  mind  requires 
a  medium  tlirough  which  it  may  discern  God,  as 
the  eye  requires  a  medium  through  which  it  may 
see.  As  that  medium  to  the  eye  is  light,  so  is  the 
medium  of  the  s[)irit,  illumination.  It  is  in  vain 
that  creation  subsists  around  me,  except  I  have  an 
organ  of  vision.  To  the  blind  man  it  is  anniliilated. 
The  works  of  God  exist,  but  not  to  him  :  he  is  in- 
sensible of  their  beauties,  he  never  was  permitted 
to  admire  their  symmetry.  And  it  is  in  vain  that 
we  possess  an  organ  of  vision,  unless  some  mec^ittm 
be  furnished  through  which  it  may  operate.  I  as- 
cend the  mountain  at  midnight,  and  look  from  its 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLI' ER.  49 

summit.  The  landscape  around  me  is  the  same 
as  at  mid-day,  and  the  organ  of  vision  is  the  same  : 
but  light,  the  medium  through  Avhich  the  eye  sees, 
is  wanting ;  and  I  look  for  the  river,  for  the  mead- 
ow, for  the  mansion,  for  the  hill,  for  all  the  beau- 
ties of  the  scenery,  in  vain — I  am  presented  with 
"  an  universal  blank."  It  is  in  vain  that,  as  an 
intelligent  creature,  I  am  surrounded  by  the  works 
of  God,  and  am  furnished  with  reasoning  powers, 
with  a  capacity  formed  to  contemplate,  to  examine, 
and  to  admire  them,  unless  I  am  furnished  also 
with  some  medium  through  which  they  may  be 
seen.  Revelation  is  that  medium.  Were  the  eye 
of  reason  quenched  in  the  spirit,  the  mind  would 
be  in  that  state  of  incapacity  to  discern  the  invisi- 
ble God,  as  is  the  man  born  blind  to  examine  his 
works.  And  were  the  light  of  revelation  extin- 
guished, although  the  man  were  in  full  possession 
of  his  intellectual  powers,  he  would  resemble  the 
person  on  the  summit  of  the  mountain  at  midnight, 
in  vain  attempting  to  explore  the  landscape  :  he 
would  possess  the  organ,  but  be  destitute  of  the 
medium  ;  he  would  have  the  eye,  but  not  the  light. 
And  for  this  reason,  the  apostle  represents  the 
heathens,  as  "  feeling  after,  if  haply  they  might 
find  God^  although  he  was  not  far  from  every  one 
of  them  :"  as  men  involved  in  perfect  darkness, 
although  possessing  the  organ  of  vision,  are  com- 
pelled to  feel  for  the  object  of  their  pursuit,  even 
when  that  object  is  at  their  side,  or  before  their 
face. 

5 


50  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

It  will  be  readily  acknowledged,  that  through 
the  medium  of  revelation  alone,  we  can  form  any 
conception  of  things  which  are  "not  seen  as  yet." 
We  can  know  nothing,  we  can  anticipate  nothing 
of  futurity,  but  as  revealed  religion  removes  the  cur- 
tain and  unveils  a  portion  of  invisible  objects.  But 
we  will  venture  to  assert,  that  the  visil)le  creation 
itself  is  not  beheld  to  perfection,  but  through  the 
medium  of  revelation.  "The  heavens  declare  the 
glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  sheweth  his  handy 
work :"  but  the  man,  who  has  never  received  this 
divine  medium,  discerns  not  that  glory.  "  Day  un- 
to day  uttereth  speech,  night  unto  night  shev/eth 
knowledge  :"  "  There  is  no  speech,  nor  language, 
where  their  voice  is  not  heard" — but  he  under- 
stands not  their  testimony.  For  this  reason,  many 
have  beheld  their  beauties,  and  have  heard  their 
voice,  who  have  not  acknowledged  the  existence 
of  God  ;  and,  from  these  alone,  none  have  under- 
stood his  perfections.  And  if  revelation  be  neces- 
sary to  the  developenient  of  creation,  how  much 
njore  is  it  necessary  to  unfold  the  mysteries  of 
Providence!  After  all,  but  little  is  at  present  dis- 
covered. Our  curiosity  is  repressed,  and  our  im- 
patience controlled,  by  the  declaration,  "  what  I 
do,  thou  knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know 
hereafter."  Yet  we  are  permitted,  sometimes, 
through  this  medium,  to  comprehend  a  part  of  the 
scheme,  that  we  may  form  some  conception  of  the 
magnificence  of  the  whole.  God  deciphers  a  lit- 
tle of  his  own  mysterious  handwriting,  to  prove 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  51 

his  perfect  ability  to  construe  the  entire  volunie. 
He  makes  known  a  portion  of  his  purposes,  as  a 
pledge,  that  he  will  hereafter  fulfil  his  engage- 
ment to  show  the  harmony,  the  propriet}',  anil  the 
wisdom  of  all. 


USE  OF  SACRED  HISTORY. 

It  is  the  glory  andtLe  beauty  of  sacred  history  to 
make  us  acquainted  with  men,  and  to  disclose  to 
us  human  feelings.     No  artificial  strokes  are  used 
in  the  delineation  of  character  in  this  volume.    No 
romantic,  unnatural  circumstances,  are  recorded 
as  belonging  to  the  individual   selected,  to   raise 
wonder  and   to  lead  captive  the  fancy:  for  where 
miraculous  events  are  asserted,  we  trace  the  finger 
of  God,  and  are  no  longer  surprised,  and  they  bear 
all  the  marks  of  matter  of  fact,  for  which  some 
cause  is  assignable.     No  false  gloss  varnishes  a  de- 
praved dis{)osition.  No  unreal  splendours  dazzle  and 
astonish  us.     All  is  natural ;  and  feeling  ourselves 
among  our  brethren    in  the  flesh,  correspondent 
emotions  spring  up  within  us,  when  we  perceive 
them  agitated  by  grief  or  joy  ;    and  we  read  our 
own  hearts  while  the  narrative  permits  us  to  look 
into  theirs.     Whether  we  are  overwhelmed  with 
the  perplexities  of  kingdoms,  or  are  occasionally 
called  to  the  field  of  battle ;  whether  we  witness 
the  slaughter  of  our  fellow-men,  or  are  involved  in 
the  intrigues  and  policies  of  worldly  courts  :  or 
whether  we  enter  the  tranquil  bosom  of  a  family, 


52  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

and  share  their  domestic  comforts  and  trials,  and 
read  in  these  hallowed  pages  the  same  scenes 
which  pass  before  our  eyes  every  day  that  we  live  ; 
we  mark,  with  equal  gratification  and  advantage, 
the  developement  of  the  plans  of  Providence,  in 
relation  both  to  public  and  domestic  life;  and  de- 
duce from  it  some  inferences  applicable  to  the  deal- 
ings of  God,  with  us,  as  a  nation,  or  as  individuals. 
Who  can  read  the  scriptures  without  feeling  that 
instruction  and  amusement  are  combined  ?  Plea- 
sure and  religious  information  intermingle,  and  are 
blended.  The  imagination  is  captivated,  the  heart 
is  warmed,  the  judgment  is  enlightened,  the  spirit 
is  refreshed  and  invigorated. 


HORRORS  OF  WAR. 

When  war  is  awakened,  the  judgments  of  God 
are  abroad  in  the  earth.  Thus  have  we  seen  to- 
night a  people  distinguished  for  their  religious 
privileges,  for  their  prosperity,  and  for  their  sepa- 
ration from  all  other  nations,  devoted  to  destruc- 
tion because  of  their  transgressions.  Let  us  learn, 
that  whenever  the  sword  is  permitted  to  devour, 
it  is  to  chastise  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  for 
their  iniquity.  War  is  horrible  in  its  nature  and 
in  its  effects.  It  separates  the  dearest  and  the 
closest  connections  of  human  nature.  One  battle 
renders  thousands  of  wives,  widows :  thousands 
of  children,  fatherless :  thousands  of  parents, 
childless  :  thousands  of  spirits  ruined  beyond 
redemption!    See,  pressing  into  yonder  slippery, 


BEAUTIES   OF  COLLYER.  53 

empurpled  field,  throngs  of  all  ages,  seeking 
their  own  among  the  dead!  In  this  disfigured 
countenance  the  child  discerns  with  difficulty  the 
features  of  his  father.  In  that  mangled  body 
dwelt  the  spirit  which  was  the  prop  and  the  glory 
of  yonder  silvery  head,  now  bowed  down  over  it 
in  silent,  unspeakable  sorrow.  There  the  widow 
washes  the  wounds  of  her  husband  with  her  tears. 
And  how  few  of  that  dreadful  list  of  slaughtered 
men  were  fit  to  die  !  Surely  war  was  let  loose  upon 
the  world  as  a  curse,  in  the  just  anger  of  God. 


WRITERS  OF  THE  SCRIPTURES,- WISE   AND 
GOOD  MEN. 

Who  will  call  in  question  the  understanding  or 
the  accomplishments  of  Moses  ?  Under  what  cir- 
cumstances of  honour  has  his  name  been  transmit- 
ted through  ages  and  generations,  till,  irradiated 
with  all  its  pristine  glory,  it  has  reached  even  these 
latter  days!  To  a  mind  far  above  the  common 
standard— to  talents  the  most  illustrious,  he  added 
all  the  learning  of  the  Egyptians.  Born  at  the 
fountain  head  of  Hterature,  he  drank  copious 
draughts  of  the  salutary  stream.  Before  him  the 
celebrated  lawgivers  of  antiquity,  although  much 
later  than  this  renowned  legislator,  shrink  away, 
as  the  stars  which  shine  through  the  night,  fade 
before  the  first  tints  of  the  morning,  and  hide  their 
diminished  heads  when  the  sun  uncovers  his  radi- 
ance.    In  like  manner  all  the  writers  of  the  Old 


54  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

and  New  Testaments  demand  our  respect  as  men 
of  supereminent  talents,  and  of  solid  wisdom.    No 
one  can  read  those  psalms  which  are  ascribed  to  the 
king  of  Israel,  and  imagine  that  David  was  a  man 
of  a  co?nmon  understanding.   The  fragments  whicli 
have  descended  to  us  from  Solomon,  abundantly 
confirm  the  decision  of  the  scriptures  in  naming 
him  the  wisest  of  men.     He  must  be  strangely  des- 
titute of  taste,  who  can  read,  unmoved,  the  majestic 
and  sublime  productions  of  Isaiah.     We  disdain  to 
answer  the  bold,  unfounded,  ignorant  assertions  of 
the  author  of  "The  Age  of  Reason,"    who  says, 
that,  "a  school  boy  should  be  punished  for  produc- 
ing a  book  so  full  of  bombast  and  incongruity  as 
the  book  caller!  Isaiah."     A  man   who  can  thus 
speak  of  a  production  so  truly  sublime,  upon  gener- 
al, we  might  say  universal  consent,  has  forfeited  all 
claim  to  criticism  ;    and  he   must  feel  something 
like  degradation  who  should  sit  down  to  answer 
so  palpable  a  misrepresentation.      We  pass  over 
the  words  of  Jesus  Christ,  for  surely  it  vvill  be  ad- 
mitted that  "  never  man  spake  as  this  man."  Luke 
rises  before  us  as  claiming  to  rank  high  in  respect- 
ability.    His  writijigs  vvill  appear  to  any  unpreju- 
diced mind  impressed   with  the  stamp  of  genius 
and  of  literature.     In  support  of  this  position  is  it 
necessary  to  do  more  than  appeal  to  the  short  and 
elegant  preface  to  his  gospel,  after  which,  having 
once  for  all  introduced  himself,  he  disappears,  and 
the  historian  is  lost  in  the  narrative?  "Forasmuch 
as  many  have  taken  in  hand  to  set  forth  in  order 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  55 

a  declaration  of  those  things  which  are  most  sure- 
ly believed  among  us,  even  as  they  delivered  them 
unto  us,  wliich  from  the  beginning  were  eye  wit- 
nesses, and  ministers  of  the  word:  It  seemed  good 
to  me  also,  having  had  perfect  understanding  of 
all  things  from  the  very  first,  to  write  unto  thee, 
in  order,  most  excellent  Theophilus,  that  thou 
mighest  know  the  certainty  of  those  things  where- 
in thou  hast  been  instructed."  The  apostle  Paul 
is  a  name  too  great  to  be  passed  over  in  silence. 
His  defence  before  Agrippa  is  a  master-piece  of 
genuine  eloquence  and  feeling ;  and  he  who  can 
deny  it,  after  reading  the  sentence  with  which  it 
closes,  appears  to  us  most  unreasonably  prejudic- 
ed, and  irreclaimable  by  the  force  of  evidence. 
"  Then  Agrippa  said  unto  Paul,  Almost  thou  per- 
suadest  me  to  be  a  Christian.  And  Paul  said,  I 
would  to  God,  that  not  only  thou,  but  also  all  that 
hear  me  this  day,  were  both  almost,  and  altogether 
such  as  I  am — except  these  bonds  I"  His  writings 
from  first  to  last  discover  an  extraordinary  mind, 
and  a  fimd  of  intelligence,  worthy  a  disciple  who 
sat  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel.  Those  who  were  un- 
lettered men,  have  no  less  a  claim  upon  our  re- 
spectful attention.  Who  does  not  perceive  a  blaze 
of  genius  and  of  talent  bursting  through  all  the  ob- 
scurity of  their  birth,  and  counteracting  the  orig- 
inal narrowness  of  their  education  ?  They  were  aZi 
wise  men  ;  and  their  wisdom  carried  with  it  the 
most  decisive  evidence  that  it  was  from  above  :  it 
was  "  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle,  easy  to  be 


56  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

entreated,  full  of  mercy  and  of  good  fruits,  without 
partiality,  and  without  hypocrisy." 

We  have  pronounced  but  a  small  part  of  their 
eulogiurn  in  saying  that  they  were  wise  men  ;  for 
talents  are  often  found  united  to  vice  :  but  they 
were  also  eminently  good  men.  They  were  men. 
We  do  not  design  to  hold  them  up  to  your  view 
as  perfect  characters:  for  such  a  representation 
would  neither  accord  with  truth,  nor  agree  with 
their  pretensions  :  but  they  were  as  perfect  as  hu- 
manity in  its  most  exalted  state  upon  earth  seems 
capable  of  being.  The  charges  against  the  char- 
acter of  David  have  been  heavy,  but  they  have 
been  as  ably  refuted.  The  light  which  he  enjoy- 
ed was  small,  compared  with  the  meridian  glory 
which  illumines  our  walk  through  life.  And  he 
must  have  an  hard  heart,  and  a  most  unreasonable 
conscience,  who  can  urge  David's  failings  against 
him,  with  much  severity,  after  the  contrition  which 
he  felt  and  expressed.  Considered  in  connection 
with  the  other,  and  excellent  parts  of  his  charac- 
ter, these  defects  resemble  the  dark  spots,  which, 
to  a  philosophic  and  scrutinizing  eye,  appear  on 
the  sun's  disk ;  but  which,  to  any  unassisted  organ 
of  vision,  are  sv/allowed  up  in  the  blaze  of  his 
glory.  In  the  writings  and  the  lives  of  the  apos- 
tles, what  piety,  what  benevolence,  what  devotion, 
what  love  to  God  and  to  man,  are  visible  !  What 
genuine  zeal  did  they  manifest !  A  zeal  distinguish- 
ed from  mere  enthusiasm,  both  in  its  object,  and  in 
its  tendency !    No  good  man  can  read  these  writ- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  57 

ings,  such  is  their  holy  fervour,  and  such  their  ex- 
alted piety,  without  being  made  both  wiser  and  bet- 
ter! Do  you  not  discern  in  them  hearts  weaned  from 
the  present  world,  and  fired  with  the  glorious  pros- 
|)ects  of  futurity?  Do  you  not  perceive  in  all  things 
an  integrity  which  made  them  ardent  in  the  sup- 
port of  their  cause,  and  ready  to  suffer  every  ex- 
tremity for  it?  Yet  that  integrity,  and  that  ardour, 
mingled  with  liumihty,  temperance,  mildness,  good- 
ness, and  trutli  ?  Do  they  not  continually  insist  up- 
on these  things  as  the  genuine  effects,  the  necessa- 
ry consequences,  and  the  distinguishing  character- 
istics, of  their  religion  ?    O  let  any  unprejudiced 
person  calmly  sit  down  to  read  their  lives,  where 
all  their  weaknesses  appear,  and   where  none  of 
their  faults  are  extenuated,  and  he  must  conclude 
that  they  were  good  men  ! 

We  might,    without  departing  much  from  our 
plan,  draw  up  by  way  of  contrast  the  lives  and  ac- 
tions of  the  principal  adversaries  of  Revelation, 
and  oppose  them  to  those  of  its  first  asserters.  We 
thmk  that  the  confessions  of  Rousseau  would  look 
but  ill  when  placed  by  the  penitential  tears  of  Pe- 
ter, or  the  contrite  sighs  of  David.    The  licentious 
life,  and  the  gloomy  death  of  Voltaire,  would  be  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  labours,  the  patience,  the 
perils,  and  above  all,  the  triumphant  expiring  mo- 
ments of  Paul.     We  shall  not,  however,  pursue 
this  subject.    These  lives  will  be  contrasted  anoth- 
er day.     But  we  will  add— that  before  the  patrons 
6 


58  BEAUTIES   OF   COLLYER. 

of  infidelity  speak  so  bitterly  of  the  failings  of  Da- 
vid, they  should  place  by  his  life,  the  conduct  of 
its  most  strenuous,  and  most  distinguished  advo- 
cates ;  and  the  comparison  would  reflect  but  little 
honour,  and  little  credit,  upon  themselves. 


THE  SPIRIT  IN   WHICH  THE  BIBLE  SHOULD 
BE  READ. 

Consult  it  divested  so  far  as  possible  of  preju- 
dice, and  with  a  sincere  desire  both  to  attain  im- 
provement and  to  search  out  the  truth.  The  in- 
vestigation which  we  recommend,  lies  equally  be- 
tween that  inactivity  which  slumbers  forever  over 
things  acknowledged,  and  that  impetuous  temeri- 
ty which  relying  on  its  own  powers  disdains  assis- 
tance, attempts  a  flight  beyond  the  precincts  of 
lawful  subjects,  and  with  licentious  boldness  pries 
into  those  "  secret  things  which  belong  to  God." 
Some  float  forever  on  the  surface  of  admitted  truths, 
fearful  to  rise  above  the  level  over  which  they  have 
hovered  from  the  first  moment  of  consciousness. 
These  resemble  those  birds  which  feed  upon  the 
insects  dancing  on  the  water,  who  never  rise  into 
the  air,  but  always  skim  the  surface  of  the  lake, 
on  the  borders  of  which  they  received  life.  Oth- 
ers, on  bold,  adventurous  wing,  rise  into  the  track- 
less regions  of  mystery,  till  they  sink  from  the 
pride  of  their  elevation,  perplexed  and  exhausted. 
These,  by  aiming  at  too  much,  lose  every  thing. 
Because  they  have  attempted  unsuccessfully  to  in- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  59 

vestigate  that,  which  God  has  been  pleased  to  put 
out  of  the  reach  of  human  comprehension,  they 
will  not  believe  any  thing — they  embrace  a  system 
of  universal  scepticism.  So  Noah's  dove  beheld 
on  every  side  a  boundless  expansion  of  waters: 
and  whether  she  rose  or  sunk,  was  equally  bewil- 
dered, and  found  no  rest  for  the  sole  of  her  foot. 
There  is  one  point  of  difference,  and  that  is,  that 
she  I'eturned  to  the  ark  ;  but  those  w^hom  we  have 
described,  too  often  are  found  to  turn  despisers, 
who  wonder  and  perish.  But  the  Christian  is  bold 
in  investigating  all  that  God  has  submitted  to  his 
researches,  attempts  every  thing  leaning  on  Al- 
mighty energy,  and  relies  with  implicit  confidence 
upon  the  written  word.  So  the  eagle  rises  boldly 
into  the  air,  keeping  the  sun  in  view,  and  builds 
her  nest  upon  a  rock. 

We  would  not  have  you,  with  the  inactive  and 
supine,  always  coast  the  shore  :  nor  with  the  infi- 
del venture  into  the  boundless  ocean,  without  pilot, 
or  compass,  or  ballast,  or  anchor:  exposed  equal- 
ly to  the  quicksands,  to  the  rocks,  to  the  whirlpool, 
and  to  the  tempest :  but  we  are  desirous  that,  like 
the  Christian,  you  should  boldly  face,  and  patiently 
endure  the  storm,  with  the  Bible  as  your  compass, 
Hope  as  your  anchor,  God  as  your  pilot,  and  Heav- 
en as  your  country. 


60  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

MAN  A  DEPENDENT  CREATURE. 

Man  is  a  needy,  dependent  creature^  from  his 
birth  to  his  death.  His  first  cry  is  the  voice  of 
want  and  helplessness  ;  his  last  tear  flows  from  the 
same  source  ;  and  in  no  one  intermediate  period  of 
his  life,  can  he  be  pronounced  independent.  His 
eye,  the  moment  it  is  opened,  is  turned  upon  another 
for  assistance.  His  limbs  must  be  sheltered  from 
the  cold :  his  nutriment  provided,  and  his  wants 
supplied  by  the  care  and  exertions  of  others :  or 
he  would  perish  in  the  hour  of  his  birth.  A  few 
months  expand  his  limbs ;  and  then  a  new  train 
of  wants  succeeds.  He  must  be  watched  with  in- 
cessant vigilance,  and  guarded  with  unceasing 
care  and  anxiety,  against  a  thousand  diseases 
which  wait  to  precipitate  him  to  a  premature 
grave.  The  quivering  flame  of  an  existence  scarce- 
ly communicated,  is  exposed  to  sudden  and  furi- 
ous blasts,  and  it  requires  all  a  parent's  skill  to  in- 
terpose a  screen  which  may  prevent  its  extinction  ; 
and,  alas!  after  all,  such  interpositions  as  human 
skill  and  tenderness  can  supply,  are  often  ineffect- 
ual, and  the  prevailing  blast  extinguishes  the  sick- 
ly fire. 

The  child  begins  to  think,  and  a  new  field  of  exer- 
tion is  opened  to  the  mother.  He  needs  direction, 
and  is  dependent  upon  her  wisdom  and  affection 
for  his  earliest  sources  of  information.  She  watch- 
es and  facilitates  the  dawn  of  reason.  She  teach- 
es her  child  for  what  end  he  came  into  the  world : 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  61 

and  in  language  adapted  to  his  capacity,  exhibits 
to  the  inquiring  mind,  and  pours  into  the  listening 
ear,  his  high  and  immortal  destination.  Oh,  then 
with  what  anxiety  she  watches  the  speaking  coun- 
tenance !  With  what  skill  she  directsthe  passions! 
With  what  assiduity  she  strives  to  eradicate,  or  at 
least  to  bring  into  subjection  his  visible  propensity 
to  evil,  and  the  impulses  of  a  depraved  nature  ! 
Who  among  us  cannot  look  back  to  this  early  pe- 
riod, and  remember  a  mother's  short,  impressive 
conversation — her  entreaties — her  caresses — her 
restrictions — and  her  tears  ? 

The  boy  advances  in  wisdom,  and  in  stature, 
and  in  strength  :  but  he  is  still  dependent.  And 
now  he  must  pass  into  other  hands.  There  are 
many  things  which  it  is  necessary  for  him  to  know, 
and  to  learn,  in  order  to  his  passage  through  life 
with  respectability,  which  it  is  not  a  mother's  prov- 
ince to  teach  him.  Besides,  it  is  needful  that  he 
should  sojourn  for  a  season  with  strangers,  to  pre- 
pare him  for  the  approach  of  that  time,  when  he 
must  quit  the  paternal  roof  forever,  and  force  his 
way  through  the  wide  world  ! 

Grown  up  at  length  to  manhood,  he  is  still  de- 
pendent. He  lives  by  conferring  and  receiving 
mutual  offices  of  kindness.  It  is  not  good  for  him 
to  be  alone.  He  links  his  fortunes  and  his  inter- 
ests, his  hopes  and  his  fears,  his  joys  and  his  sor- 
rows, with  those  of  another.  His  duties  and  his 
responsibilities,  multiply  upon  him.  The  circle  is 
widened.     He  finds  others  dependent  upon  him, 


62  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

while  he  is  not  himself  independent.  And  all  his 
difficulties  and  sufferings  are  lightened  by  being  di- 
vided. 

Behold  him  stretched  upon  the  bed  of  death  hav- 
ing reached  the  extremity  of  this  transient  exis- 
tence, still  a  poor,  dependent,  needy  creature  !  To 
that  heart  he  looks  for  sympathy :  that  bosom  must 
support  his  languishing  head:  that  hand  must  ad- 
just the  pillow,  and  administer  the  cordial,  and 
wipe  away  the  dew  of  death,  and  close  the  extin- 
guished eye.  Into  the  bosom  of  his  companion 
tlirough  life,  or  of  his  child,  or  of  his  friend,  he 
breathes  the  last  sigh  ! 


HUMAN  POWER  IS  LIMITED. 

The  productions  of  human  skill  are  grand  ;  and 
we  pronounce  the  "  solemn  temple"  magnificent 
when  contrasted  with  surrounding  and  inferior 
buildings :  but  when  set  in  comparison  with  the 
temple  of  the  sky,  it  is  magnificent  no  longer — it 
shrinks  into  nothing.  I  see  a  picture  of  the  even- 
ing: 1  admire  the  painter's  art  in  so  judiciously 
blending  his  light  and  his  shade  :  a  soft  and  sober 
tint  overspreads  the  whole  piece,  and  I  pronounce 
it  beautiful ; — but  when  I  compare  it  with  the  sun- 
set of  nature,  when  I  see  the  west  inflamed  with 
ethereal  fire,  blushing  with  ten  thousand  vivid 
and  various  splendours,  while  the  distant  mist 
slowly  creeps  along  the  line  of  the  horizon,  and 
forms  a  contrast  to  the  brilliancy  above  it,  the  cf- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  63 

fort  of  art  is  swallowed  up  in  the  sublimity  ot  na- 
ture—and it  is  beautiful  no  longer.  I  admire  the 
genius  and  the  understanding  of  the  philosopher ; 
I  reverence  the  superior  intelligence  of  a  Solomon  ; 
I  look  up  humbled  to  a  Newton,  exploring  the  im- 
mensity of  yonder  firmament,  reducing  the  appar- 
ent confusion  of  its  orbs  to  order,  laying  the  plane- 
tary system  under  laws,  tracing  their  orbits,  and 
scrutinizing  their  nature— and  I  pronounce  these 
wise  men  :  but  I  raise  my  eyes — and  behold  an 
higher  order  of  creatures  around  the  throne  of  God, 
before  whom  even  Newton  is  a  child  ;  and  presum- 
ing into  "the  heavens  of  heavens,"  I  am  lost  in 
HIM,  who  charges  even  these  superior  beings 
«  with  folly." 

The  powers  of  the  human  mind  are  said  to  be 
large  and  capacious :  they  are  so  when  compared 
with  those  of  every  other  terrestrial  being  in  the 
creation  of  God.  Man  walks  abroad  the  monarch 
of  this  world.  Of  all  the  diversified  tribes  which 
the  hand  of  Deity  formed,  into  man  alone  was 
"breathed  the  breath  of  life,  and  he  became  a  liv- 
ing soul."  The  animal  soon  reaches  his  narrow 
standard,  and  never  passes  it.  The  powers  of  man 
are  in  a  constant  state  of  progression  ;  and  proba- 
bly in  the  world  of  spirits  they  will  be  found  to  be 
illimitable.  But  whatever  they  may  be  in  their 
nature,  they  are  at  present  contracted  in  their  op- 
erations. To  what  do  they  amount  when  called 
into  action  ?  To  speak  a  few  languages :  to  deci- 
pher a  few  more  in  a  various  character :  to  ascer- 


64  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

tain  here  and  there  a  cause  h}'  tracing  it  upwards 
from  its  effects:  to  number  seven  planets  revolv- 
ing round  the  sun  :  to  send  imagination  into  infi- 
nite space  in  search  of  other  systems,  till  she  is  be- 
wildered and  tired  in  her  progress  :  to  float  on  the 
bosom  of  the  air  suspended  from  a  globe  of  silk  ; 
or  to  sail  over  the  surface  of  the  ocean  in  a  vessel 
of  his  own  construction  :  to  ascend  the  hoary  sum- 
mit of  the  loftiest  mountain,  or  to  penetrate  a  fath- 
om or  two  the  surface  of  the  earth  :  these  are  the 
boundaries  of  human  effort.  And  in  searching  out 
the  little  he  is  capable  of  learning,  what  difficulties 
he  must  meet !  what  embarrassments  he  must 
surmount!  what  labours  he  must  undergo  !  what 
time  he  must  expend  !  And  after  all,  how  little  has 
he  gained  !  how  much  remains  unexplored  !  how 
uncertain,  and  probably  how  erroneous,  are  his 
best  grounded  conclusions!  And  if  we  elevate  our 
thoughts  to  those  spirits,  whose  powers  in  our  lim- 
ited apprehension  are  unbounded,  we  shall  find 
upon  inquiry  that  they  also  are  limited  creatures. 
There  are  subjects  present  to  the  Divine,  Mind 
which  the  angels  do  not  know:  mysteries,  which 
the  capacity  of  Gabriel  cannot  fathom,  and  which 
the  intelHgence  of  a  seraph  cannot  unravel.  How 
much  less  "  man  who  is  a  worm,  and  the  son  of 
man  who  is  but  a  worm  ?" 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  65 

MIKACIiES. 

EXERTION  NECESSARY  TO  ATTAINMENT. 

To  attain  any  object  of  importance,  we  must  be 
satisfied  to  take  many  weary  intermediate  steps. 
To  reach  any  point  of  eminence,  confessedly  re- 
quires patient  industry,  and  persevering  labour. 
He  that  will  be  a  scholar,  must  begin  with  the  ea- 
siest principles  of  language,  and  gradually  ascend 
to  the  summit  of  literature.  He  that  will  be  a 
philosopher,  must  commence  with  the  simple  ele- 
ments of  science,  and  by  painful  researches  ex- 
plore the  worlds  of  nature  and  of  reason.  By  many 
privations,  and  in  the  face  of  many  difficulties,  the 
hero  advances  from  "  conquering  to  conquer,"  till 
empire  after  empire  is  subjugated,  and  from  his 
hand  nations  receive  their  respective  destinies.  But 
what,  if  the  scholar  had  sat  down  contented  with 
the  elements  of  knowledge  ?  what,  if  the  philoso- 
pher had  never  passed  over  first  principles  ?  what 
if  the  hero  had  been  impeded  by  the  first  river,  or 
halted  at  the  foot  of  the  first  mountain,  that  cross- 
ed his  course  ?  or  had  turned  his  back  and  fled  at 
the  sound  of  the  first  trumpet  calling  him  to  battle.^ 
or  had  abandoned  the  project  which  his  daring 
mind  conceived,  upon  the  first  disappointment  of 
his  hopes?  Where  had  been  the  pride  of  literature, 
the  distinctions  of  science,  and  the  glory  of  victo- 
ry? We  should  have  justly  added  scorn  and  re- 
proach to  the  mortification  of  failure  and  defeat— 


66  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

and  have  said — He  who  will  tread  the  paths  of 
literature  and  of  philosoph}'^,  must  learn  patiently 
tx>  labour,  and  perseveringly  to  advance ;  and  he 
who  claims  the  warrior's  wreath  of  fame,  must  as 
a  good  soldier,  endure  hardness,  as  a  skilful  leader, 
meet  and  bear  up  against  calamity,  and  as  a  vet- 
eran, sustain  with  unbending  fortitude,  and  with  a 
mind  undismayed,  the  shock  of  battle,  and  even 
the  disasters  of  defeat. 

On  what  principle  is  it,  that  these  reasonings,  so 
universally  admitted,  and  which  are  deemed,  on 
every  other  point,  so  self-evident,  should  be  con- 
sidered in  most  cases,  doubtful,  and  in  some,  should 
be  absolutely  denied  in  reference  to  religion  ?  In 
securing  a  worldly  interest  all  the  powers  of  the 
mind  combine  with  the  exertions  of  the  body  ;  and 
no  man  expects  either  distinction  or  affluence, 
without  toil,  and  diligence,  and  decision,  and  per- 
severance. The  slothful,  the  inconstant,  the  pre- 
sumptuous, if  they  fail  of  their  object,  meet  deris- 
ion instead  of  pity.  We  say  of  the  first,  "  It  is  the 
hand  of  the  diligent  that  maketh  rich  ;"  of  the  sec- 
ond, "  Unstable  as  water,  he  could  not  excel ;"  of 
the  last,  he  should  have  "  sat  down"  to  "  count  the 
cost"  before  he  began  to  "  build."  It  is  to  religion 
alone  that  we  refuse  to  apply  these  acknowledged 
principles,  as  a  standard  of  character,  or  as  a  di- 
rectory for  our  conduct.  In  religion  alone  a  man 
expects  to  be  master  of  the  mysteries  of  redemp- 
tion, and  of  providence,  while  he  is  professedly  but 
0  disciple  ;  in  religion  alone  he  looks  to  be  crown- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  67 

ed  as  a  conqueror,  before  he  was  well  girded  on 
his  armour  as  a  soldier.  It  is  common  in  worldly 
affairs  to  reproach  a  man,  even  for  calamities 
which  are  unavoidable  ;  in  religion  to  throw  that 
blame  upon  the  interest,  which  is  indeed  due  to 
ourselves.  So  oppositely  do  men  judge  respecting 
points,  which  however  distinct  in  their  nature,  are 
allied  as  to  the  measures  by  which  they  are  to  be 
secured,  and  the  duties  which  are  respectively  in- 
volved in  them.  To  sum  up,  in  one  word,  these 
observations,  God  has,  in  religion,  as  in  every  oth- 
er case,  connected  the  means  with  the  end  ;  nor 
can  the  first  be  separated  from  the  last,  without  the 
whole  being  lost.  He  also  expects  from  us,  not 
only  the  diligence  and  perseverance  necessary  to 
tlie  security  of  any  worldly  interest ;  but  a  dili- 
gence and  perseverance  commensurate  with  the 
greatness  and  superiority  of  the  object  which  we 
propose  to  ourselves — and  this  ii  a  reasonable  ex- 
pectation. 


MAN'S  CONSCIOUSNESS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

Man  has  a  spirit  within  him  conscious  of  immor- 
tality, and  always  instituting  inquiries  after  its  high 
destination.  In  creation  he  has  no  counter- 
part ;  in  the  universe  he  can  find  no  creature  so 
glorious  as  himself;  so  exalted  in  the  scale  of  be- 
ing ;  so  elevated  in  the  sphere  of  natural  life;  so 
like  the  invisible  Creator.  He  feels  his  dignity  ev- 
ery step  which  he  takes ;   and  contemplates  the 


68  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

starry  heavens  as  yielding  in  splendour,  in  value, 
in  importance,  to  the  inestimable  gem  lodged  in 
his  bosom.  In  certain  qualities,  many  things  have 
tlie  preeminence,  but,  as  a  whole,  he  is  "  more  ex- 
cellent than  they."  He  yields  to  the  animal  crea- 
tion, in  strength  and  swiftness ;  to  the  flower  of 
the  field,  in  beauty  and  variety  :  to  the  sun  and 
stars,  in  lustre,  and  in  present  duration ;  but  these 
are  all  his  inferiors.  The  animal  returns  to  the 
dust  to  perish,  buries  his  powers  and  existence  in 
the  earth,  and  ceases  to  be.  The  flower  is  formed 
for  a  season,  withers  in  its  season,  and  partici- 
pates not  the  reproduction  of  the  next  spring.  The 
flower  which  rises  from  the  same  root  is  another 
flower,  and  in  many  respects  differs  from  the  pre- 
ceding one.  The  sun  will  spend  his  lustre,  and  the 
hand  that  feeds  his  light,  shall  be  withdrawn  from 
him.  But  man,  as  a  spirit,  never  dies;  and  even 
his  body  shares  the  honour  conferred  upon  him. 
The  dishonours  of  death  are  transient ;  the  morn- 
ing of  the  resurrection  will  rise  upon  the  grave ; 
the  voice  of  God  will  rend  the  sepulchre  :  a  tide  of 
light  and  of  life,  will  pour  in  upon  its  dreary 
confines;  the  body  shall  be  raised  and  reani- 
mated ;  and  death  shall  have  no  more  dominion 
over  it. 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  60 

LAUDABLE  CURIOSITY. 

There  is  a  disposition  in  the  human  mind,  to 
investigate  subjects  on  \vhich  it  is  not  possible  to 
attain  certainty  :  and  which  excite  the  strong  and 
awful  feeling  of  sublimity.  When  reason  con* 
fesses  her  inability  to  pursue  the  train  of  reflection 
upon  which  she  enters,  imagination  loves  to  soar 
beyond  the  point  where  reason  closes  her  pinions, 
and  to  bewilder  herself  in  a  mazy  flight  throLigh 
the  boundless  regions  of  infinity.  For  this  cause 
the  mind  delights  to  expatiate  in  the  starry  heav- 
ens ;  the  fancy  to  wander  beyond  the  confines  of 
creation  ;  and  formed  under  her  plastic  hand,  new 
worlds,  new  suns,  new  systems,  "  arise  and  shine." 
The  same  principle  makes  us  love  to  dwell  upon 
the  mysteries  of  Providence ;  to  attempt  to  ex- 
plore hidden  causes  from  obvious  effects ;  and  to 
anticipate  what  shall  be  from  that  which  has  al- 
ready taken  place.  The  same  feefijig  summons 
the  secrets  of  futurity  to  pass  before  us :  we  love 
to  speculate  upon  that  which  we  mast  die  to  learn  ; 
and  are  never  weary  of  sending  imagination  to 
create  visions  of  that  unseen  state  of  being. 

Yet  is  futurity,  under  the  sarxtions  of  revela- 
tion, not  a  subject  of  mere  speculation,  but  of 
laudable  inquiry,  of  solemn  hope,  of  awful  fear, 
of  lively  faith.  Who  can  feel  himself  a  traveller 
through  this  wide  solitude,  a  stranger  and  pilgrim 
upon  the  earth,  about  to  press  into  the  hidden  and 
unseen  state  of  existence  whither  his  forefathers 


70  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

have  entered,  without  inquiring  into  the  partic- 
ulars of  that  country,  whence  "  no  traveller  re- 
turns ?"  He  who  is  about  to  leave  his  native  land 
forever,  and  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  days  in 
some  foreign  clime,  is  anxious  to  learn  every  par- 
ticular respecting  his  future  residence.  It  is  a 
consolation  to  him  to  reflect  that  the  same  sun 
which  rises  upon  his  country  will  visit  him  when 
he  is  banished  from  her  shores.  But  we  must  ex- 
change worlds.  The  state  to  which  we  hasten 
has  not  the  same  sun,  the  same  stars,  the  same 
light,  the  same  nature.  All  is  changed  ;  all  is  new. 
Is  it  idle  curiosity  that  prompts  the  anxious,  eager 
inquiry  after  its  features,  before  we  become  its 
inhabitants  ?  No — it  is  a  reasonable  investigation. 
Let  us  not  lightly  cast  from  us  a  volume  from 
whose  pages  alone  we  draw  any  certain  informa- 
tion as  to  this  awful,  pleasing  state  of  being.  We 
may  not  be  able  to  demonstrate  all  its  positions, 
but  the  heart  refuses  to  resign  its  hope.  We  ex- 
ult in  the  prospects  which  it  discloses — and  bow 
to  its  testimony,  even  where  it  seems  to  run  coun- 
ter to  general  experience  ;  remembering  that  while 
it  is  impossible  v/ith  man,  with  "God  all  things  are 
possible." 


THE  APOSTLES  OF  CHRIST. 

The  annals  of  time  will  not  afford  us  such 
another  list  of  characters.  In  vain  we  search  the 
chronicles  of  empires — they  are  barren  of  every 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  71 

thing  so  illustrious.  In  vain  we  penetrate  the 
bosotn  of  courts — they  present  not  any  thing  so 
dignified.  In  vain  we  walk  through  camps  filled 
with  heroes,  and  over  fields  which  they  have  won 
— we  meet  with  no  minds  so  extraordinary — and 
with  no  achievements  to  be  compared  with  the 
deeds  of  these  champions  of  eternal  truth — written 
on  this  neglected  record.  We  encounter,  indeed, 
men  rising  into  distinction  for  science— becoming 
eminent  for  talents — moving  high  in  the  sphere  of 
society — possessing  power  to  disturb  the  repose  of 
mankind — to  destroy  the  liberties  and  the  happi- 
ness of  nations — to  break  up  the  boundaries  of  em- 
pires, and  to  remove  their  ancient  land-marks  : — 
we  see  them  availing  themselves  of  this  power  to 
the  utmost — but  covered  with  all  the  glory  reflect- 
ed from  a  thousand  fields  contested  and  obtained — 
they  are  eclipsed  by  the  divine  radiance  of  one  of 
the  least  of  these.  The  page  of  history  may  pro- 
duce a  Nimrod,  an  Alexander,  a  Hannibal,  a  Caesar  : 
the  page  of  inspiration  displays  an  Abraham,  a 
Moses,  a  Samuel,  a  David.  Plunder  six  thousand 
years  of  their  treasures — lay  in  the  balances  all 
that  has  been  found  great  and  glorious  and  god- 
like in  the  human  character,  from  the  commence- 
ment of  time  to  this  hour — and  one  witness  of 
the  miracles — Jesus  their  author — outweighs  the 
whole. 

The  greatness  of  the  Apostles  is  founded  upon 
their  worth.  Their  magnificence  is  not  built  up- 
on the  ruins  of  desolated  humanity.    Their  laurels 


72  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

were  not  raised  in  the  field  of  blood,  nor  nourish- 
ed by  the  widow's  tears.  They  were  not  celebra- 
ted for  their  contempt  of  the  common  feelings  of 
nature,  but  for  the  perfection  to  which  they  culti- 
vated them.  Their  course  was  not  marked  like 
that  of  the  hurricane,  by  the  vestiges  of  destruc- 
tion :  but  distinguished  like  the  track  which  the 
shower  of  the  spring  pursues,  by  the  blessings  dis- 
tributed on  every  side  as  it  passes.  The  face  of 
nature  was  not  withered  in  their  presence,  but 
brightened  by  the  sun  beam  of  their  eye.  Peace 
fled  not  their  approach,  but  lived  in  their  smile,  and 
waited  on  their  footsteps.  It  was  piety  which  ren- 
dered them  illustrious,  and  religion  which  exalted 
them  above  the  sphere  of  humanity. 

Neither  was  their  dignity  obtrusive.  They  did 
not  court  renown,  nor  sacrifice  principle  to  ap- 
plause. They  did  not  ask  the  votes  of  mankind 
by  stooping  to  their  prejudices  :  nor  buy  their  fa- 
vour by  the  brilliancy  of  their  exploits.  They 
sought  a  quiet,  and  often  trod  a  humble  walk 
through  life.  They  shone,  so  to  speak,  in  defiance 
of  themselves,  in  the  eyes  of  admiring  angels,  stars 
of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  constellation  of  reli- 
gion, but  unseen,  or  unheeded,  by  those  who  gaz- 
ed only  on  the  hemisphere  of  time.  They  were 
lent  to  the  last  but  for  a  season — and  are  set  in 
this  world.  They  shine  in  the  first  with  additional 
splendour,  and  shall  continue  so  to  do,  in  the  fir- 
mament of  heaven,  upon  which  they  have  long 
since  lisen, — forever! 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  73 

IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT. 

We  all  receive  the  system  of  Copernicus  in  as- 
tronomy, in  preference  to  that  of  Ptolemy,  by 
which  the  ancients  were  determined  in  their  ob- 
servations :  because,  upon  such  evidences  as  the 
nature  of  the  subject  will  allow,  and  by  a  compar- 
ison of  the  appearances  and  the  motions  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  with  the  laws  which  the  common- 
ly received  system  involves  in  it,  we  feel  assured 
that  it  agrees  with  matter  of  fact.  But  suppose 
the  Corpernican  system  had  never  been  discovered, 
and  the  Ptolemaic  had  never  been  exploded,  no 
serious  consequences  could  liave  arisen  from  this  : 
we  should  indeed  have  been  unable  so  fully  to  ac- 
count for  certain  ap[)earances,  but  still  the  sun 
would  have  shown  upon  us,  and  the  seasons  would 
have  revisited  us  in  their  order,  whether  we  could 
accurately  and  philosophically  liave  accounted  for 
these  things  or  not:  whether  we  supposed  the  sun 
to  be  the  centre  of  the  system  as  now,  or  continu- 
ed to  believe  with  our  fathers,  tliat  with  inconceiv- 
able rapidity  he  whirled  his  dazzling  orb  round  the 
comparatively  little  sphere  inhabited  by  man.  It 
is  far  otherwise  in  morals.  A  mistake  here  is  of 
incalculable  mischief,  as  it  produces  the  most  fatal 
consequences  in  this  world,  and  is  irreparable  in 
another.  Not  merely  the  joys  and  the  sorrows  of 
the  individual  will  depend  continually  upon  his 
moral  principles;  but  the  whole  cast  and  colour  of 


74  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLTER 

society,  in  its  various  and  extended  combinations, 
will  be  taken  from  the  religious  system  under 
wliich  it  is  moulded,  and  to  which  it  appeals,  at 
once  as  the  test  of  its  character,  and  as  the  direc- 
tory of  its  conduct.  Those  who  affect  to  think 
that  it  is  of  small  importance  to  what  religious  sys- 
tem a  man  gives  his  assent,  and  in  what  way  he 
worships  God,  so  that  he  worship  him  at  all — that 
all  incense  is  alike  before  the  Deity,  whether  i^re- 
sented 

'"  By  saint,  by  savage,  or  by  sage  ;" 

and  to  whomsoever  presented 

''  Jehovah,  Jove,  or  Lord  :" 

forget  that  human  actions  are  determined  by  mo- 
tives; and  that  our  very  motives  are  themselves 
controlled  by  our  religions  convictions  :  in  short, 
that  where  religion  is  any  tiling  more  than  profes- 
sion, where  it  is  principle  at  all,  it  is  a  principle  all- 
powerful,  under  all  circumstances  influential,  and 
that  it  acts  with  a  force  alike  inconceivable,  and 
uncontrollable. 


BENEVOLENCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  character  of  the  w^hole  Christian  system  is 
a  character  of  benevolence.  In  the  life  of  its  au- 
thor, in  the  labours  of  his  apostles,  in  the  nature 
of  his  precepts,  in  the  spirit  of  his  religion — there 
is  but  one  principle  running  through  the  whole — 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  75 

benevolence.     It  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  rep- 
resentations of  the  Divine  character,  and  it  is  pe- 
culiar to  revealed  religion,  that  God  is  disposed  to 
comfort  and  to   encourage  those  whom  man  des- 
pises and  abandons.     In   the  refined  speculations 
of  philosophy,  magnificent  attributes  encircled  the 
God  of  Nature,  where  reason  could  be  prevailed 
upon  to  purify  itself  in  some  degree  from  the  gross- 
nessof  a  corrupt  imagination,  yet  in  those  rare  in- 
stances, the  perfections  conceived  were  interwov- 
en  with  terrors   that  chastened  love :   but  wiien 
the  gospel  declared  him  as  he  really  is,  he   was 
manifested  clothed  in  tenderness  that  corrects  and 
subdues  fear.     The  God  of  man's  conception  was 
attracted  by  the  external  circumstances  of  pomp 
and  talent :    he  was  partial  in  his  regards,  both  of 
persons  and  of  places  ;  he  was  the  God  of  the  hero, 
of  the  noble,  of  the  philosopher — the  God  of  nature 
and  of  revelation  sends  his  rain  alike  "upon  the 
evil  and  upon  the  good — causes  his  sun  to  shine 
upon  the  just,  and  upon  the   unjust" — distributes 
with    true   paternal    feeling   and    affection    equal 
smiles  upon  every  country,  and  people,  and  rank, — 
upon  the  poor  and  the  rich — upon  the  learned  and 
the  illiterate — upon  the  European  and  the  African 
— and  he  "  is  no  respecter  of  persons."     In  exam- 
ining the  testimony  of  this  volume,  we  see  through- 
out, (and  experience  confirms  the  fact  asserted  in 
the  Bible,)  that  if  a  preference  is  shown  at  all,  it  is 
favourable  to  those  who  are  of  little  value  in  human 
estimation.      If  there  be   one  ray   brighter  than 


76  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

another  from  the  same  sun,  it  falls  upon  the  cot- 
tage rather  than  upon  the  palace.  Thus  a  coun- 
terbalance to  affliction  is  afforded  the  wounded 
mind.     He  who 

"  Rides  on  a  cloud  disdainful  by 

A  sultan  or  a  czar, 
Laughs  at  the  worms  that  rise  so  high, 

Or  frowns  them  from  afar;" 

sees  some  of  the  children  of  disease  and  poverty 
suffering  his  will,  who  could  not  by  active  service 
perform  it,  and  looks  approbation  that  finds  its  way 
to  their  heart.  He  calls  the  friendless  being,  from 
whom  the  world  avert  their  eyes  with  disgust  or 
with  scorn — his  friend,  his  brother,  his  child. 
"Thus  saith  the  High  and  Lofty  One  whoinhabit- 
eth  eternity  ;  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place — 
with  him  also  who  is  of  a  broken  spirit,  and  who 
trembleth  at  my  word."  Such  are  the  declarations 
of  revelation, and  they  are  sanctioned  byProvidence. 
Were  it  not  going  too  far  from  the  subject,  several 
reasons  might  be  assigned  for  the  advantage  of 
the  poor  over  the  rich.  The  great  often  enjoy  less 
of  the  divine  notice  than  the  lowly,  because  it  is 
the  tendency  of  their  situation  to  allure  their  de- 
sires from  that  direction  :  "they  will  not  come  unto 
him  that  they  might  have  life" — he  also  abases  the 
proud,  while  he  elevates  the  humble,  that  "no  flesh 
should  glory  in  his  presence" — he  measures  his 
distributions  according  to  the  necessities  of  every 
man:  and  if  he  particularly  directs  his  attention 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  77 

his  kindness,  and  his  care  to  the  poor,  it  is  because 
they  need  it  more.  But  waving  this,  as  it  is  not 
our  immediate  object  to  vindicate  "  eternal  provi- 
dence, and  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man,"  it  is 
evident  not  merely  that  a  benevolent  attention  is 
paid  to  every  class  of  human  life — most  to  those 
who  need  it  most — but  that  the  leading,  the  pecu- 
liar, the  constant  feature  of  Christianity,  is  benevo- 
lence. 


MIRACLES  OF   CHRIST 

They  had  all  a  tendency  to  alleviate  human  af- 
fliction, and  to  diminish  those  calamities  which 
imbitter  or  shorten  life.  Hunger  devours  the  man, 
and  is  one  of  the  most  frightful  evils  attendant 
upon  poverty.  But  he  who  refused  to  work  a  mir- 
acle to  feed  himself,  when  he  saw  that  the  multi- 
tude had  nothing  to  eat,  and  that  they  fainted, 
had  compassion  on  them,  and  supplied  them.  He 
who  yearly  multiplies  the  grain,  by  an  act  of  the 
same  power  multiplied  five  loaves  and  two  fishes 
to  satisfy  five  thousand.  Worse  than  even  hunger 
is  it  to  have  disease  in  the  frame.  And  how  mul- 
tiform are  the  miseries  of  human  life!  Yonder 
stands  one,  waiting  for  a  hand  to  guide  him.  The 
eye  is  extinguished  ;  and  while  day  smiles  on  the 
face  of  nature,  night  gathers  forever  round  his 
head.  There  is  another,  whose  ear  never  drank 
in  a  stream  of  melody — the  organ  is  closed  against 
strains  which  steal  through  that  avenue  into  the 


78  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

heart  of  his  neighbour — he  "never  heard  the  sweet 
music  of  speech" — nor  perceives  the  tones  of  his 
own  unformed,  untuned,  unmodulated  voice.  Here 
is  a  third,  who  appears  before  me,  without  the 
power  of  utterance — the  string  of  the  tongue  was 
never  loosed,  and  he  never  spake :  the  organs  of 
speech  are  deranged,  or  were  never  perfectly 
formed — he  hears  tones  which  vibrate  on  liis  heart 
— but  he  cannot  impart  through  the  same  medium 
the  same  pleasurable  sensation.  These  could  not 
escape  the  compassionate  eye  of  Jesus.  He  gave 
sight  to  the  blind,  hearing  to  the  deaf,  speech  to 
the  dumb,  limbs  to  the  maimed,  health  to  the  sick, 
strength  to  decrepitude.  But  yonder  is  the  cham- 
ber of  death.  Darker  is  the  cloud  that  broods 
there.  Where  the  tongue  was  silent  the  eye  was 
eloquent :  when  the  palsied  limb  refused  to  move 
— the  ear  heard  and  discriminated  sounds  which 
melt  the  passions,  and  stir  the  spirit  within  us : 
it  was  sad  to  tend  the  couch  of  sickness, — but  still 
we  seemed  to  have  some  hold  upon  the  sufferer, 
and  he  to  have  some  interest  in  life.  But  that  is 
the  bed  of  mortality,  and  the  young,  the  beautiful, 
the  only  hope  of  her  family  is  stretched  there — 
and  there  is  Jesus  also — rousing  her  from  death  as 
from  a  gentle  slumber,  and  restoring  her  to  the 
arms  of  her  parents.  There  is  yet  one  other  class 
of  suffering  worse  than  death.  It  glares  in  the 
eye,  it  raves  in  the  voice,  it  struggles  in  the  limbs 
of  that  man,  whose  throne  of  reason,  imagination 
has  usurped,  and  over  the  whole  empire  of  his 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  7^ 

mind,  madness  reigns  in  all  its  accummulated  hor- 
rors. Visions — horrible  visions — of  unreal  and  in- 
conceivable objects  float  before  his  disordered  senses 
while  he  hears  not,  he  distinguishes  not,  he  regards 
not,  the  voice  of  parent,  or  of  wife,  or  of  child,  or 
of  friend.  The  spirit  sits  surrounded  by  the  ruins 
of  nature  ;  terrified  amidst  shattered,  and  useless, 
or  perverted  organs  ;  and  covered  with  the  mid- 
night of  despair.  Oh,  let  the  compassionate  eye 
of  the  Saviour  fix  upon  this  object! — and  it  does — 
he  meets  him  coming  from  among  the  tombs — he 
speaks  the  word — he  calms  the  tempest — behold 
"  the  man  sitting  at  his  feet,  clothed,  and  in  his 
right  mind."  He  gave  "reason  and  understanding 
to  the  distracted ;  and  release  from  the  power  of 
Satan,  to  those  who  were  possessed  by  him." 


CHARACTER  OF  MOSES: 

It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  the  character  of 
Moses,  in  any  point  of  view,  without  being  struck 
with  its  singular  greatness.  We  are  surprised  to 
see  tlie  little,  deserted  child,  who  floated  in  a  bul- 
rush ark,  the  sport  of  winds  and  waves,  starting  up 
a  lawgiver,  a  hero,  a  general,  a  monarch ;  and 
evincing  in  every  sphere  of  operation,  in  every  pe- 
riod of  life,  in  every  rank  of  society,  an  evident 
superiority,  not  merely  over  his  contemporaries, 
but  also  over  his  predecessors,  and  the  generations 
which  have  followed  him.  But  of  all  his  distinc- 
tions,  that  which. the  apostle  seized  is  the  most 


80  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

conspicuous  :  of  all  his  achievements  it  is  the  most 
noble  ;  of  all  his  conquests  it  is  the  most  brilliant. 
It  was,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  a  victory  over 
the  world,  a  victory  over  sin,  and  a  victory  over 
himself.  "By  faith,  Moses,  when  he  was  come  to 
years  refused  to  be  called  the  son  of  Pharaoh's 
daughter ;  esteeming  the  reproach  of  Christ  greater 
riches  than  the  treasures  of  Egypt.  By  faith  he 
forsook  Egypt,  not  fearing  the  wrath  of  the 
king:  for  he  endured  as  seeing  Him  who  is  in- 
visible." 

What  did  he  relinquish?  Honour,  reputation, 
distinction,  a  crown  ?  The  objects  which  dazzle 
the  eyes,  which  captivate  the  affections,  which  sub- 
due the  heart,  which  inflame  the  desires  of  others, 
he  voluntarily  resigned.  He  gave  up,  of  his  own 
accord,  from  a  noble  contempt  of  its  worthlessness, 
that,  for  which  the  hero  dyes  his  hands  in  blood, 
hardens  his  heart  against  the  tears  of  humanity 
and  the  pleadings  of  nature,  violates  the  rights  of 
nations,  destroys  the  liberties  of  mankind,  and  for 
the  attainment  of  which  Europe  is  now  desolated, 
and  thousands  are  laid  asleep  in  the  dust,  from 
time  to  time — the  dust  which  was  first  impurpled 
with  their  vital  fluid.  Moses  aimed  at  a  nobler 
conquest,  and  won  a  greater  field  than  that  of 
Austerlitz  or  Calabria,  when  he  subdued  ambition, 
renounced  the  court  of  Pharaoh,  and  relinquished 
his  claim  on  Egypt's  well-watered  kingdom  ! 

What  did  he  embrace  ?  A  life  of  danger ;  a 
sphere  of  humiliation ;  a  track  of  ignominy.    He 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  81 

did  not  withdraw  to  spend  his  days  in  ease,  and  in 
elegant  retirement.  He  neither  shrunk  from  the 
painftd  duties  of  hfe,  nor  expected  exemption  from 
its  troubles.  On  the  contrary,  he  walked  along  its 
most  thorny  path.  He  chose  a  portion  which^ne- 
cessarily  involved  in  it  affliction.  And  he  did  it 
upon  the  conviction  of  his  judgment,  and  the  de- 
cisions of  his  heart.  Had  he  been  expressly  called 
to  it,  we  might  have  wondered  less:  but  it  was 
his  choice  ;  and  he  obeyed  in  the  voice  of  God,  the 
impulse  of  his  own  great  mind. 

O  how  I  envy  him  his  feelings  !  How  sweet 
were  the  hours  of  his  retirement,  of  his  reflections, 
of  his  repose!  He  did  not  meet,  like  Brutus,  an 
apparition  in  his  tent,  raised  by  the  accusations  of 
conscience,  to  reproach  him  with  a  deed,  which 
he  had  flattered  himself  would  cover  him  with  im- 
mortal glory.  He  did  not,  in  casting  the  die,  and 
taking  his  final  resolution,  decree,  like  Ctesar,  the 
ruin  of  his  country's  liberties.  He  did  not,  like  Al- 
exander, first  subdue  the  world,  and  then  weep 
that  he  had  not  anotiier  world  to  conquer.     These 

all  had    something  to  tarnish  their  glory s(»me- 

thing  to  disturb  their  repose  :  and  they  felt  how 
vain,  and  how  unsatisfactory  is  human  greatness. 
T%€^often  repented  of  f/ieiV  choice:  but  he,  never  ! 
And  this  greatness  is  attainable!  All  have  not 
a  crown  to  resign  :  but  every  man  has  passions  to 
conquer.  All  cannot  reach  the  summit  of  a  hero's 
fame:  but  all  may  choose  the  lot  of  Moses.     They 


82  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

may  be  destitute  of  his  talents,  of  his  hterature,  of 
his  rank  ;  but  they  may  adopt  his  decision  ;  and 
in  this  he  was  most  eminent,  and  most  glorious- 
Here  is  a  guiltless  field,  for  the  noblest  ambition  ! 
And  here  is  a  lesson  for  the  proudest  heart  I  Be- 
hold the  eulogy  of  the  greatest  man  that  ever 
lived!  And  in  v^^hat  is  it  founded?  Not  on  his  dis- 
tinction as  a  legislator — his  skill  as  a  general — his 
elevation  as  a  monarch — his  attainments  as  a 
scholar — nor  even  his  superiority  as  a  prophet — 
these  are  all  waved — Upon  this  alone  his  character 
rests — he  chose  "  rather  to  suffer  afi^iction  with  the 
people  of  God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin 
for  a  season."     "Go,  and  do  likewise." 


CONSISTENCY  OF  THE  SACRED  SCRIPTURES. 

Truth  is  always  consistent  with  itself:  false- 
hood is  frequently  detected  merely  from  its  want 
ofcongruity.  He  that  contents  himself  with  sim- 
ply detailing  facts  as  they  arise,  need  fear  no  scru- 
tiny ;  every  examination  of  his  narrative  will  only 
serve  to  render  more  evident  its  consistency. 
He  that  has  a  tale  to  palm  upon  mankind,  to 
which  truth  refuses  to  set  her  seal,  has  reason  to 
shrink  from  investigation.  In  vain  it  affects  the 
air  of  sincerity — in  vain  it  borrows  the  ornament 
of  eloquence — in  vain  it  is  guarded  with  the  vigi- 
lance of  art — it  wants  the  harmony  and  agreement 
absolutely  essential  to  truth,  and  stands  at  last  de- 
tected and  exposed.     If  these  observations  are  just 


BEAUTIES   OF  COLLYER.  83 

on  general  subjects,  the}^  will  apply  with  peculiar 
force  to  the  facts  of  revelation,  and  appear  no  less 
important  as  a  tost  of  its  doctrines.     A  system  that 
does  not  harmonize  with  itself  cannot  be  true — be- 
cause  truth   is  necessarily  consistent.     A  system 
that  does  indeed  correspond  in  all  its  several  parts, 
has  something  more  than  presumptive  evidence  to 
its  veracity ;    for   the  same  reason  it  bears  in  its 
face  the  grand  and  characteristic  features  of  truth. 
To  no  volume  can  this  evidence  be  so  satisfactori- 
ly applied  as  to  the  Bible  ;  both   as  a  narrative  of 
facts,  and  as  a  system  of  doctrines  ;  nor  less  to  the 
general  scheme  of  salvation  revealed  in  it,  "  and 
most  surely  believed"  among  us.     There  are  "ma- 
ny things"  contained  therein    "  hard  to  be  under- 
stood," but  there  is  nothing  contradictory.     There 
may  be  some  things  which  ice   know  not  how  to 
reconcile :  but  its  invariable  consistency,  in  every 
case  to  which  evidence  can  be  applied,  ought  in 
justice  to  induce  us  to  conclude,  that  the  defect  is 
neither  in  the  system,  nor  in  its  testimony,  but  that 
it  lies  partly  in  the  inferiority  of  our  powers  of  judg- 
ing, and  partly  in  the  very  contracted  and  partial 
views  which  we  necessarily  have  of  its  plans  and 
subjects.     In  the  mean  while  the  genuine  exercise 
of  reason  appears  to  be,  to  allow  Revelation,  what 
must  be  allowed   to   all  science,  the  grant  of  its 
own  principles :  and  then  to  judge  of  its  veracity, 
or  the  contrary,  by  the  agreement  or  disagreement 
of  its  parts  with  each  other;  and  the  consequent 
harmony  or  discrepancy  of  the  whole. 


84  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLY ER. 

At  the  same  time,   when  we  are  comparing  the 
several  parts  of  this  great  scheme  together,  in  or- 
der to  determine  how  far  their  union  gives  stabili- 
ty to  the  whole,  we  ought  never  to  forget  that  we 
see  hut  parts.     All  criticism    npon   an    unfinished 
building,  by  persons  who  are  acquainted  with  the 
design  of  the  architect  only  by  so  much  of  it  as  the 
work  of  his  hand  has  rendered   apparent,  must  be 
deemed  defective  and  premature.     All  that  can  be 
decided  is  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  those 
parts,  which  are  already  visible,  with  each  other ; 
and  even  in  this  hasty  conclusion  there  is  danger 
of  rashness  and  injustice  ;  since  that  which  strikes 
the  eye  as  out  of  proportion,  perhaps  wants  only 
some  corresponding  part  of   the  plan,  not  yet  de- 
veloped, to  restore  and  to  impress  upon  our  senses 
the  unity  of  the  whole.     So  we  ought  to  regard 
the  designs   of  Providence.     It  is   a  magnificent, 
but  as  yet  an  unfinished  plan.     Every  day  demon- 
strates something  of  its  beauty  and  consistence  ; 
but,  alas  I    a  very  few   strokes   are  added  during 
our  continuance  here — so  soon  do  we  die  out  of  the 
world  !  Such  also  is  our  situation  in  respect  of  the 
great  and   benevolent  scheme  of  human  redemp- 
tion.    We  are  struck  and  amazed  at  the  portion  of 
it  which  we  are  able  to  comprehend  ;  but  the  half 
has  not  been  told  us  ;  and  we  are  unable  to  grasp 
that  which  is  already  revealed.     Neither  is  the  de- 
sign as  yet  completed.     All  that  is  submitted  to 
us,  we  see  "  as  through  a  glass  darkly,"  and  how 
much   is   yet  behind!     There   are    "heights   and 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLY  ER.  85 

depths,  breadths  and  lengths"  which  surpass  our 
knowledge,  to  be  unfolded  in  a  future  world.  We 
are  justified  in  advancing  the  same  plea  relative 
to  the  facts  of  Revelation.  Time  has  destroyed 
some  of  their  local  evidences.  The  historical  rec- 
ords of  the  Bible  are  transmitted  to  us  with  a  con- 
ciseness which  was  perfectly  intelligible  to  contem- 
poraries, but  which  overshadows  them  with  a 
partial  obscurity  to  us,  who  stand  so  remote  from 
the  scene  of  action,  and  from  the  ages  in  which 
they  transr)ifed.  In  the  mean  while,  they  exhibit 
the  simple,  firm,  and  eternalcharacters  of  truth. 

It  becomes  those  who  examine  pages  which  pro- 
fess to  be  inspired,  to  do  it  with  caution,  with  dili- 
gence, and  with  reverence.  Then,  when  the 
claims  of  the  Bible  are  disproved,  let  it  be  treated 
with  levity:  but  until  its  pretensions  are  demon- 
strated to  be  false,  until  its  long  contested  and  un- 
shaken evidences  are  destroyed,  until  the  profess- 
ed spirit  of  truth  pervading  it  is  proved  to  be  a 
delusion  and  a  fable,  ridicule  is  not  the  weapon 
which  candour  would  raise  against  such  a  cause, 
nor  is  mockery  and  insult  consistent  with  common 
decency,  when  advanced  against  a  system  which 
has  commanded  the  veneration  of  ages.  If  mod- 
ern sceptics  were  capable  of  feeling  shame,  they 
v/ould  blush  at  the  levity  with  which  they  treat  the 
most  solemn  of  all  subjects;  and  at  the  disgusting 
flippancy  with  which  they  assail  a  cause,  dignified 
in  itself,  gracious  in  its  effects,  and  at  whose  foot 
the  greatest  of  men,  in  every  period  of  time,  in  ev- 


86  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

ery  department  of  literature,  and  in  every  country, 
have  been  content  to  lay  their  most  distinguished 
honours. 


OBSCURITY  NO  ARGUMENT  AGAINST 
REVELATION. 

It  is  singular  that  men  should  seize  a  circum- 
stance, as  an  argument  against  Revelation,  which 
constitutes  an  irresistible  evidence  in  its  favour, 
whether  we  consider  it  as  a  necessary  result  of 
the  nature  of  things,  or  as  a  striking  analogy  with 
the  works  of  creation,  and  the  dispensations  of 
Providence.  The  circumstance  to  which  we  al- 
lude is  that  obscurity  which  sometimes  rests  upon 
its  pages,  not  arising  from  inaccuracy  of  expres- 
sion, but  from  the  very  character  of  the  subjects 
produced.  It  is  not  that  the  doctrine  escaping  our 
researches  is  uncertainly  stated  as  a  fact,  but  that 
tJie  modes  of  its  existence  are  altogether  undefin- 
ed. It  is  not  that  the  testimony  to  the  fact,  what- 
ever it  be,  is  incomplete  as  evidence  ;  but  that  it  is 
aji  evidence  peculiar  to  the  subject,  resting  simply 
upon  the  authority  of  inspiration,  the  doctrine  it- 
self being  exclusively  a  doctrine  of  revelation  ;  and 
consequently  possessing,  in  liuman  estintation,  a 
force  and  weight  of  authority  corresponding  with 
the  admission  of  the  claims  of  the  Bible,  on  the 
part  of  the  individual. 

It  is  absurd  to  object  against  the  scriptures  that 
they  contain  many  things  incomprehensible  to  U3, 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  87 

when  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  ]>Ians  and  tlje 
operations  of  an  infinite  mind  arc  necessarily  be- 
yond the  grasp  of  one  that  is  finite.  Whatever 
human  wisdom  lias  been  able  of  itself  to  discover, 
or  to  establish,  has  been  intelligible  to  many,  if 
not  to  all  men  ;  because  finite  powers  are  able  to 
apprehend  things  that  are  finite.  In  limited  facul- 
ties there  may  be  still  unbounded  variety.  All  men 
have  not  equal  minds.  A  Newton  was  capable  of 
comprehending  subjects  utterly  unintelligible  to 
men  of  inferior  capacities;  and  it  is  probable  that 
angels  are  able  to  understand  much  more  of  the 
operations  of  God,  both  in  nature,  in  providence, 
and  in  redemption,  than  the  most  exalted  and  the 
wisest  of  human  beings.  But  no  man  ever  wrote 
upon  so  abstruse  a  subject,  if  he  did  himself  appre- 
hend it,  but  another  man  was  found  capable  of  un- 
derstanding and  appreciating  his  reasoning.  And 
no  man  ever  invented  a  system,  but  another  was 
found  able,  not  merely  to  grasp  it,  but  to  improve 
upon  it.  But  in  reference  to  the  plans  of  God,  there 
is  a  certain  point  to  which  we  can  ascend,  and  no 
man  has  been  able  to  go  beyond  it.  Whatever  is 
here  explained,  is  intelligible  to  the  "  wayfaring 
man;"  and  whatever  is  left  unrevealed,  is  inscru- 
table tu  the  philosopher.  The  obscurity  of  reve- 
lation arises  from  the  grandeur  of  its  subjects, 
from  the  sublimity  of  its  system  :  not  from  any  de- 
ficiency of  evidence  to  its  facts,  nor  from  anything 
indefinite  in  its  language.  It  is  the  same  difliculty 
pressing  upon  the  inquirer  after  its  subjects,  which 


88  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

the  astronomer  feels  in  tracing  the  oj)erations  of 
the  same  God  in  nature.     Notwithstancling  all  the 
efibrts  of  science,  it  is  still  disputed   whether  the 
orb  which  forms  the  centre  of  our  system,  be  a 
body  of  fire,  or  an  habitable  world.     No  wonder 
that  the  comet's  eccentric  orbit  should  be  undefin- 
ed ;  and  that  the  visits  of  these  beautiful  strangers 
should  fill  us    with    admiration,   without   adding 
much  to  the  stores  of  our  knowledge,  relative  to 
the  laws  by  which  they  are  governed,  and  the  pur- 
poses for  which  they  are  sent  into  our  system.  All 
that    we   learn   certainly  is,  that  thei'eisasun — 
that  we  depend  upon  him  for  light  and  heat — that 
we  are  supplied  according  to  our  necessities — and 
that  "  the  hand  which  made  Isim  is  divine."     So  of 
the  doctrines  of  revelation — they  are  clearly  stated 
as  facts — the  modes  of  their  existence  are  conceal- 
ed— and  for  this    plain  reason — they  could  not  be 
made  known  to  us,    unless  it  were  possible  for  a 
finite  mind  to  grasp  infinity-     That  the  volume  pro- 
fessedly inspired  should,  in  its  subjects,  transcend 
our   knowledge,   is   an   evidence  in  favour  of  its 
claims ;    since    that   which    originated  with    man 
miglit    have    been    easily  apprehended  ;   but  that 
which  emanates  from   God,  must,  for  the  reasons 
just  assigned,  be  necessarily  unsearchable. 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.        89 

ADVERSITY  A  TEST  OF  CHARACTER. 

WnEX  iniquity  abounds  the  love  of  many  waxes 
cold.     Seasons  of  trial  distinguish  the  faithful  from 
the  false.     The  tempests  which   have,  at  different 
periods,  shaken  the  church  of  God,  have  always 
eventually  promoted  its  stability.     Sufferings  may 
diminish  the  number  of  nominal  christians  ;  but  it 
unites  more  closely  the  little  band  of  real  disciples. 
It  severs  the  precious  from  the  vile.     It  discrimi- 
nates characters.     It  exposes  principleg,  and  brings 
to  light  hidden  motives.     It  melts  down  animosities 
among  the  brethren,  and  cements  those  who  ought 
to  "dwell  together  in  unity."     While   Jesus   was 
with  his  disci[>les,  and  they  foresaw  not  impending 
evil,  we  often  find  them  alienated,  and  contending 
for   pre-eminence ;    but  v.hen   their   Master   was 
"  taken  from  their  head,"  when  Israel's  hopes  lay 
buried,  as  they  imagined,  in  that  new  tomb,  hewn 
out  of  a  rock,  on  the  side  of  Calvary,  we  see  them 
assembled  in  one  room  ;  a  sense  of  danger  and  of 
desertion    drew  brother  to  brother,  and  friend  to 
friend  ;  they  felt  that  they  had  a  common  interest ; 
and  they  resolved  to  live  and  die  together.    "  Sweet 
are  the  uses  of  adversity  !"     While  affliction  ce- 
ments the  church  of  Christ,  it  imparts  lustre  to  the 
character  of  the  individual.     Trial  gives  a  polish 
to    human   nature.     It   controls   the  passions ;    it 
softens  the  heart;  it  subdues  pride;    it  generates 
fiympathy.     He^  who  has  frequented  the  school  of 
adversity,  has  been  taught  this  important  lesson — 


90  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

to  "put  on  bowels  of  compassion,  and  tender 
mercies."  He  who  cannot  feel  for  another's  woe, 
never  himself  endured,  or  never  profited  by  the 
stroke  of  calamity.  Nor  is  sorrow,  sanctified  sor- 
row, less  beneficial  to  personal  religion.  It  quick- 
ens devotion,  it  produces  resignation,  it  awakens 
caution,  it  stimulates  serious  self-examination.  As 
the  light  of  prosperity  expires,  every  christian 
grace  shines  more  brightly  ;  and  when  the  day  de- 
parts, what  brilliant  stars  kindle  their  immortal  ra- 
diance in  this  darkened  hemisphere.  The  cause 
of  general  religion  is  aided  by  afi^iction.  Does  it 
disperse  the  fickle  multitude.^  It  renders  more 
conspicuous  the  faithful  few.  A  city  set  upon  a 
hill  which  cannot  be  hid  is  the  little  society  that 
dares  to  adhere  to  the  Redeemer  in  the  evil  day, 
and  amidst  the  falling  oflTof  professors.  An  indi- 
vidual who  stands  fast  in  a  time  of  apostasy,  is  in 
himself  a  tower  of  strength  to  the  cause  :  he  attracts 
more  observers  even  by  his  singularity ;  and  he 
commands  their  admiration,  in  defiance  of  them- 
selves. 


THE  FIRST  TRIUMPHS  OF  DEATH. 

We  have  seen  Death  in  so  many  shapes,  have 
felt  his  witness  within  us  by  so  many  infallible 
proofs  of  sickness  and  decay,  that  if  he  is  a  fearful, 
lie  is  not  a  novel  enemy.  We  have  stood  around  the 
dying  beds  of  our  dearest  connections:  we  have 
uncovered  the   sepulchre   to   deposit  in  its  dark 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLY EK.  91 

chambers  oU»-  own  flesh  ;  we  have  died  again  and 
again  in  our  family — death  has  assailed  us  in  a 
thousand  forms — has  wrung  tears  from  our  eyes, 
and  sorrow  from  our  hearts,  at  every  period  of  our 
lives,  and  every  stage  of  our  journey — and  yet  has 
he  not  lost  his  terrors  I  We  still  watch  his  approach 
with  anxiety — we  listen  to  the  silent  celerity  of  his 
footsteps  with  fear.  When  he  robs  us  afresh,  we 
feel  the  blow  as  poignantly  as  though  we  had 
never  felt  it  before  ;  when  he  rushes  to  seize  us, 
we  receive  him  as  though  he  were  a  stranger. 
What  then  must  he  have  been  to  the  first  men  ? 
They  had  not,  like  us,  traced  his  horrible  features : 
they  had  not,  like  us,  watched  his  destructive  pro- 
gress :  they  had  not,  like  us,  witnessed  his  frequent 
visits.  If  you  take  the  trouble  to  calculate,  you 
will  find  that  notwithstanding  so  many  names,  and, 
as  it  appears,  generations,  preceded  Enoch,  there 
is  no  recorded  death,  excepting  Abel  and  Adam  : 
Buch  was  human  longevity !  The  world  had  no 
opportunity  to  watch  the  action  of  death  in  the 
first  instance  ;  for  it  was  violent,  unnatural,  and 
performed  by  a  brother's  hand,  the  murderer  alone 
being  present.  I  can  easily  conceive,  therefore, 
with  what  anxiety  they  would  watch  the  footsteps 
of  time  in  the  person  of  Adam,  the  venerable  fath- 
er of  the  human  race  ;  who,  being  the  first  in  the 
transgression,  was,  perhaps,  also  the  first  who 
tasted  of  death  in  all  its  natural  bitterne^s.  O  what 
an  interest  every  sickness  would  excite  !  What 
anxiety  every  pang  would  cause  !  Every  fresh  lino 


92  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

in  his  countenance  would  be  marked.  As  he  grew 
enfeebled  by  age,  their  attention  would  redouble: 
and  when,  at  last,  the  long  expected  blow  was 
struck,  what  a  group  of  astonished,  affrighted 
countenances  were  assembled!  The  last  sigh — 
the  last  look — the  last  tear — the  last  word — the 
last  breath — all  left  upon  the  heart  an  impression 
which  time  could  not  obliterate! 


THE  EXAMPLE  OF  ANCIENT  SAINTS. 

When  the  ancient  saints  pass  before  our  eyes, 
clothed  in  the  beauty  of  holiness,  and  encompassed 
with  the  transcendent  glories  of  religion,  we  aro 
dazzled  with  their  si)lendour,  and  are  almost  in- 
duced to  conclude  that  their  characters  display 
something  more  than  human.  We  venerate  the 
piety  which  preserved  Noah  and  his  family  in  the 
universal  desolation  of  the  flood  ;  and  which  de- 
livered Lot  from  amidst  the  ruins  of  the  cities  of 
the  plain.  We  admire  the  faith  of  Abraham,  who, 
when  he  was  called  to  forsake  his  country  and  his 
father's  house,  went  forth,  not  knowing  whither  ho 
went;  and  when  he  was  commanded  to  sacrifice 
his  only  son,  laid  him  without  murmuring  upon 
the  altar  of  God,  relying  with  implicit  confidence 
on  the  divine  rectitude,  and  listening  to  the  voice 
of  duty,  even  when  it  opposed  the  pleadings  of 
nature.  We  envy  Elijah  his  fidelity,  and  David 
his  piety:  and  in  all  these  distinguished  characters 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  93 

we  find  something  to  excite  respect,  mingled  with 
humility.  But  when  we  insjiect  their  lives  more 
closely,  we  perceive  their  frailties,  and  discover 
that  these  all  were  men  of  "like  passions  with 
ourselves."  Noali,  in  th.e  ark,  and  in  the  vineyard  ; 
Lot,  in  Sodom,  and  in  the  solitude  of  the  moun- 
tain ;  Ahraham,  on  Mount  Moriah,  and  in  Egypt ; 
David  in  the  cave,  and  in  the  palace — a  shepherd 
and  a  prince  ;  Elijah,  "hold  for  the  Lord  of  Hosts," 
in  the  city,  and  timidly,  impatiently  desiring  to  die 
in  the  wilderness;  appear  different  beings.  They 
fail  also  in  their  grand  characteristics — Noah  in 
his  temperance  ;  Lot  in  Ids  purity;  Ahraham  in 
his  faith;  David  in  his  tenderness  of  conscience  ; 
and  Elijah  in  his  courage.  They  required  the  re- 
freshment of  religious  privileges ;  and  availed 
themselves  of  the  appointed  means  of  grace  to  keep 
alive  their  duties,  and  to  give  stability  to  their 
character.  The  ordinances  which  were  thus  man- 
ifestly useful  and  necessary  to  them,  must  be  deem- 
ed essential  and  indispensable  to  us.  If  they  could 
not  live  without  prayer,  neither  can  we.  If  they 
felt  the  necessity  of  self-examination,  should  not 
we  say,  "Search  us,  O  God,  and  know  our  hearts; 
try  us,  and  know  our  thoughts  ;  and  see  if  there  he 
any  wricked  way  in  us,  and  lead  us  in  the  way 
everlasting!"  If  their  graces  languished,  can  we 
wonder  that  ours  fade?  If  the  cloud  of  afiliction 
dropped  its  tears  upon  them,  shall  we  expect  to 
pass  along  without  finding  its  shadow  stretched 
sometimes  over  our  path  ?    If  they  could  not  live 


94  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

without  the  friendly  aid  of  religion  ;  nor  dispense 
with  the  public  institutions  of  worship,  and  the  ex- 
ercises of  private  devotion;  nor  die  without  the 
divine  presence  ;  these  things  are  both  profitable 
and  needful  to  us.  If  their  strength  required  to 
be  constantly  thus  renewed,  let  us  place  no  confi- 
dence in  mere  mortal  energy:  let  us  not  turn 
our  feet  from  the  house  of  God  :  let  us  neither 
despise  his  ordinances,  nor  violate  the  sanctity  of 
his  day  ;  let  us  receive  with  humility  and  with 
gratitude  all  the  means  of  religious  instruction. 


MARRIAGE. 

Such  an  union,  arises  out  of  the  necessity  of 
human  nature,  and  is  essential  to  its  happiness. 
It  originated  in  the  appointment  of  God — it  re- 
ceived the  sanction  of  his  law — it  has  been  hon- 
oured and  exalted  in  the  New  Testament — and  it 
is  sealed  alike  by  religion,  nature,  and  reason.  It 
is  an  institution  which  gives  two  parties  a  com- 
mon interest,  and  thus  cements  an  union  closer 
than  any  worldly  friendship,  while  it  builds  it  upon 
a  basis  not  to  be  shaken  or  destroyed.  The  sor- 
rows of  life  are  lightened  by  becoming  divided ; 
and  its  pleasures  are  multiplied  by  participation. 
It  gives  an  impulse  to  a  combination  of  talents,  of 
zeal,  of  exertion — and  modifies  and  tempers  the 
asperities  of  human  life.  It  gives  to  duty  the  irre- 
sistible force  of  affection,  and  the  present  recom- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  95 

pense  of  enjoyment.  Where  it  is  sanctified  by  the 
influence  of  religion,  solitary  devotion  becomes 
social ;  united  prayers  and  praises  ascend  to  tho 
throne  of  mercy;  and  they  are  mutual  helpers  of 
each  other's  faith  and  holiness.  This  institution 
received  the  sanction  of  the  presence  of  Jesus,  as 
a  seal  to  its  obligations.  This  fact  points  out  tho 
only  way  in  which  we  have  a  right  to  expect  hap- 
piness and  prosperity  in  the  connection — to  make 
God  a  party  in  the  rite,  and  to  invite  Jesus  as  a 
guest,  not  merely  in  the  nuptial  rejoicings,  but  also 
in  all  the  domestic  arrangements,  and  through  all 
the  scenes  of  human  life.  It  was  reserved  to  the 
profligacy  and  immorality  of  these  last  days,  to 
pour  contempt  upon  an  institution  divinely  ap- 
pointed, so  repeatedly  honoured  under  every  re- 
ligious dispensation,  and  so  highly  distinguished. 
It  is  one  of  the  eflTects  of  that  scepticism,  or  rather 
let  me  call  it  infidelity,  which  strikes  at  all  order, 
and  aims  to  destroy  the  very  existence  of  society, 
by  trampling  upon  the  laws  of  Cliristianity,  and  by 
renouncing  its  authority.  The  results  of  such 
principles  have  been  too  fatally  developed,  especial- 
ly of  late,  in  the  higher  classes  of  society,  by  the 
infringement  of  the  rights  of  this  wise  and  holy  in- 
stitution ;  by  a  violation  of  its  duties;  by  outrage 
upon  its  feelings;  by  an  invasion  of  its  sanctity, 
and  by  a  wanton  destruction  of  its  domestic  hap- 
piness. Our  public  journals  are  stained  and  pol- 
luted with  narratives,  but  too  frequent,  of  the 
dishonour  endured  on  the  one  side,  and  the  indig- 


96  BEAUTIES  OF   COLLYER. 

nity  offered  on  the  other,  of  the  respective'parties, 
and  the  sweet  tranquilhty  of  social  order  is  abol- 
ished to  make  way  for  the  indulgence  of  the  most 
criminal  passions.  Families  are  divided  and  scat- 
tered ;  divorces  succeed  debauchery ;  children  are 
early  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  vicious  refine- 
ment;  and  the  morals  of  a  generation  to  come  are 
already  tainted  and  debilitated,  if  not  totally  ruin- 
ed. It  arises  from  the  diffusion  of  the  pernicious 
principles  of  scepticism,  and  not  from  the  pure 
code  of  revelation,  which  has  imparted  unfading 
glory  to  this  institution.  Out  of  modern  philoso- 
phy, (as  it  has  dared  to  call  itself,)  has  arisen  this 
hardness  of  the  human  heart,  this  contempt  of 
social  feeling,  this  irregularity  and  impurity  of 
conduct.  "  Have  ye  not  read,  that  he  which  made 
them  at  the  beginning,  made  them  male  and 
female ;  and  said,  'for  this  cause  shall  a  man  leave 
father  and  motlier,  and  shall  cleave  unto  his  wife  ; 
and  they  twain  shall  be  one  flesh  ?  Wherefore  they 
are  no  more  twain,  but  one  flesh.  What,  there- 
fore, God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put 
asunder.'" 


RELATIVE   DUTIES. 

Out  of  every  relation  of  life,  whether  it  be  natu- 
ral or  spiritual,  correspondent  duties  arise.  Every 
step  that  we  take  in  life,  they  increase  and  multi- 
ply. He  that  extends  his  influence,  enlarges  his 
circle,  and  widens  his  sphere,  augments  his  obli- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  97 

gations  in  llie  same  proportion.  Nature  constitut- 
ed liitn  a  son,  and  ini!)o=ed  u[)on  him  filial  duties. 
Inclination  moulded  him  into  a  friend  ;  and  out  of 
his  affections  sprang  the  obligations  of  friendship. 
lie  becomes,  in  process  of  time,  a  husband,  and  a 
parent;  his  heart  thrills  with  new  emotions,  his 
bosom  burns  with  other  fires:  but  these  all  imply 
new  duties — all  require  fresh  vigour,  diligence,  and 
activity.  So  of  spiritual  relations.  Our  existence 
links  us  to  the  Deity.  He  is  om*  Creator  ;  for  it  is 
he  who  "  hath  made  »js,  and  not  we  ourselves." 
He  is  our  preserver;  in  denance  of  ourselves  we 
must  be  dependent,  because  we  live  upon  his  boun- 
ty ;  "  He  gives  us  life,  and  breath,  and  all  things." 
All  this  constitutes  obligation,  and,  on  our  part, 
supposes  duty ;  whether  it  be  acknowledged  or 
denied,  whether  it  be  regarded  or  disregarded. 
But  there  are  other  and  voluntary  ties:  voluntary, 
because  although  they  were  formed  by  the  power 
and  mercy  of  God,  the  will  which  was  naturally 
averse  from  them,  is  so  changed  by  divine  grace, 
that  it  cordially,  joyfully,  eagerly  adopts  them,  with 
all  their  consequences.  He  becomes  our  Parent, 
our  Redeemer,  our  Sanctifier ;  and  we  are  his 
adopted  children,  as  well  as  the  workmanship  of 
his  hand,  and  the  creatures  of  his  power.  This 
increase  of  relationship  to  God  necessarily  includes 
an  increase  of  obligation.  Out  of  the  union  which 
believers  have  to  their  Lord,  arise  both  their  privi- 
leges, their  pleasures,  and  their  duties. 
9 


98  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

Obligations  thus  constituted  are  indissoluble. 
This  is  true  of  both  natural  and  spiritual  ties.  So 
long  as  the  parent  lives,  filial  duties  can  never 
cease.  The  son  grows  up  to  manhood,  enters  new 
connections,  forms  a  circle  for  himself,  becomes  in 
his  circumstances  independent  of  the  father  and 
the  mother;  but  neither  God  nor  nature  release 
him  from  the  silken  bonds  of  affection  and  of  grat- 
itude. He  feels  that  he  has  incurred  a  debt,  in  the 
years  of  his  infancy  and  hel{)lessness,  wiiich  he 
can  never  discharge.  Resj»ectiiig  tliose  connec- 
tions which  he  voluntarily  forujs,  the  obligations 
are  reciprocal,  but  they  are  no  less  permanent. 
Exactly  the  same  characters  of  perpetuity  distin- 
guish our  spiritual  relations;  or  rather,  upon  these 
last  they  are  more  deeply  and  indelibly  inscribed. 
Man  can  never  renounce  his  Creator.  Many  have 
attempted  to  do  it — in  vain:  and  the  effort,  the 
thought  argues  distraction.  lie  can  never  be  in- 
dependent of  the  hand  that  feeds  him,  and  of  the 
power  in  whom  "he  lives,  and  moves,  and  has  his 
being."  Atheism  can  neither  affect  the  existence 
of  God,  nor  annihilate  the  obligations  of  man  to 
him.  It  may  ruin  the  interests  of  the  creature, 
but  it  cannot  shake  the  throne  of  the  Creator;  and 
he  who  renounces  God,  will  feel  how  indissoluble 
are  the  ties  by  which  he  is  bound  to  him,  in  the 
day  when  God  rouses  himself  to  vengeance,  and 
renounces  liim  in  return  ;  and  when  all  the  bonds 
of  his  present  connection  shall  be  exchanged  for 
chains  of  wrath. 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  99 

DIVINE  PLANS  IN    HARMONY  WITH  DIVINE 
PERFECTIONS. 

Lv  the  operations  of  Deity  all  is  order,  beaut}', 
and  consistency.  In  the  works  of  creation  element 
balances  element:  the  preponderation  of  one  is 
counteracted  by  the  pressure  of  its  opposite, 
and  thus  an  equilibrium  is  maintained  among  the 
whole.  Equally  harmonious  and  consistent  are 
the  mysterious  plans  of  providence.  To  us  they 
are  like  chaos,  "  without  form  and  void  " — dark, 
profound,  unfathomable.  Does  it  follow  that  they 
are  so  in  themselves.?  To  the  eye  of  superstition 
the  comet  carries  in  its  luminous  train  war,  and 
famine,  and  pestilence,  and  whatever  scourge  can 
afflict  guilty  nations  :  while,  perhaps,  it  is  the  mes- 
senger of  [)eace  to  distant  worlds,  rolling  far  be- 
yond the  extent  of  our  vision,  through  the  immen- 
sity of  space.  To  the  eye  of  ignorance  the  starry 
heavens  present  a  mingled,  confused  display  of 
trembling  lights.  To  the  eye  of  the  philosopher, 
they  wear  an  appearance  far  different.  Yonder 
spark  he  discovers  to  be  a  sun,  and  conceives  it  the 
centre  of  another  system.  That  cluster  of  glitter- 
ing specks  is  to  him  what  the  finger-post  or  the 
mile-stone  is  to  the  traveller;  it  is  a  mark  of  meas- 
urement between  one  quarter  of  the  heavens  and 
another.  Those  wandering  lamps,  he  perceives, 
describe  a  regular  orbit ;  and  he  predicts,  to  an 
hour,  their  arrival  at  such  and  such  a  point  of 
heaven — or  their  passage  through   a  given   con- 


100  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

stellalion.  Such  are  the  plans  of  providence  now 
to  us,  a  majestic,  but  confused  and  boundless 
piece  of  machinery :  and  such  shall  they  become 
in  the  world  of  light,  when  we  shall  see  them  all 
reduced  to  order.  So  in  religion — dispensation 
answers  dispensation — the  anti-type  is  exactly  de- 
lineated in  the  type — the  shades  of  colouring  melt 
into  each  other — and,  from  the  present  confused 
masses,  the  matcJiless  skill  of  the  divine  Artist 
shall  produce  and  perfect  his  own  grand  design. 
In  the  mean  time,  let  us  wait  the  issue,  and  in  in- 
specting the  progression  of  the  work  let  us  not  de- 
cide as  though  it  were  already  accomplished,  nor 
pronounce  our  judgment,  as  though  we  were 
masters  in  the  science,  while  we  are  only  allowed 
to  be  spectators,  or  at  most  scholars. 


GRAND  EPOCHS  IN   HUMAN  LIFE. 

There  are  certain  periods  in  every  man's  lifo, 
distinguished,  above  all  others,  for  their  impor- 
tance. The  magnitude  of  the  events  suspended 
upon  them,  of  the  purposes  which  they  bring  to 
maturity,  or  of  the  advantages  which  they  secure — 
impart  to  them  dignity  and  value.  Some  of  these 
periods  are  pleasing,  and  some  are  painful :  they 
are  hours  of  joy,  or  of  sorrow  :  and  the  heart  antic- 
ipates them  with  rapture,  or  expects  them  with  dis- 
may. Affliction  has  its  distinctions  as  well  as  felic- 
ity ;  and  in  the  catalogue  preserved  in  a  man's  fam- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  101 

ily,  of  memorable  events,  the  day  of  his  deatli  finds 
a  place  as  weH  as  the  day  of  his  birth.  But  life  sel- 
dom flows  a  stream  of  even  tenoiir:  the  expansion 
of  its  shallow  wave  is  ruffled  by  the  gale  of  pros- 
perity, or  by  the  blast  of  adversity;  and  it  rolls, 
with  perpetual  variation,  along  a  channel  exposed 
to  every  breath  of  heaven,  till  it  is  lost  in  eternity. 

The  mother  looks  back  upon  the  period  when 
her  first  born  came  into  the  world,  with  inexpress- 
ible delight.  She  hails  tlje  return  of  the  day,  year 
by  year,  with  growing  pleasure.  She  sees  him  in- 
crease "in  wisdom,  and  in  stature,  and  in  favour 
with  God  and  man."  She  remembers  no  more 
her  sorrow  ;  nay,  it  was  absoibed  in  the  T.ay  when 
she  smiled  through  her  weakness  upon  his  sleep- 
ing countenance,  and  first  feebly  pressed  his  cheek 
with  her  maternal  lip. 

The  young  man  is  looking  forward  to  the  day 
when  he  shall  attain  full  age,  and  be  his  own  mas 
ter.  How  slowly  weeks,  and  months,  and  yeara 
appear  to  creep  along!  He  calculates  not  upon 
the  train  of  ills  that  the  world,  which  appears  so 
enchanting  at  a  distance,  will  open  upon  him.  Is 
life  to  be  new-modelled  for  him  ?  Are  the  plans 
of  providence  to  be  changed  tliat  he  may  walk 
along  a  velvet  path  through  this  wilderness?  Will 
the  flowers  spring  spontaneously  beneath  his  steps 
wherever  he  places  his  foot  ?  Is  the  house  of  his 
pilgrimage  to  be  always  swept  and  garnished  ? 
Yet  he  flatters  himself  that  life  is  full  of  consola- 
tion, that  its  scenes  are  ever  new,  and  ever  pleas- 


102  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

ing — and  that  the  fiUiire  contahis  all  which    he 
wants  at  present. 

But  there  is  an  hour  of  more  imj)ortance  than 
these — an  hour  of  greater  magnitude  than  any- 
other  which  the  hopes  or  the  fears,  the  pleasures 
or  the  pains,  the  wisdom  or  the  ignorance  of  man, 
distinguish  in  the  swift  revolutions,  and  the  inces- 
sant fluctuations,  of  this  transitory  stale  of  exist- 
ence. It  is  the  hour  when  the  account  with 
heaven  must  close — when  the  halance  must  be 
struck — when  time  shall  finish  with  us — when  the 
body  shall  fall  into  the  dust,  and  the  spirit  shall 
appear  naked  before  God.  This  is  a  day  which 
man  is,  alas!  too  imwilling  to  anticipate.  This 
deserves  to  be  noted  above  all  others;  whether 
you  consider  the  certainty  of  its  approach,  the 
solemnity  of  its  features,  or  the  magnitude  of  its 
consequences. 


MAN  HAS  NOTHING  OF  HIS  OWN  IN  WHICH 
TO  GLORY. 

Man  has  nothing  of  his  own  in  which  to  glory. 
In  his  best  estate  he  had  not  anything  whereof  to 
boast:  but,  since  his  apostasy,  and  in  his  present 
degraded  condition,  few  properties  of  excellence 
remain  ;  and  he  can  scarcely  take  any  view  of 
himself,  which  ought  not  to  cover  him  with  shame 
and  confusion. 

Take  a  momentary  survey  of  the  situation  of 
Adam,  as  he  came  from  the  hand  of  God.     You 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  103 

must  regulate  your  conceptions  on  this  point,  by 
the  intelhgence  respecting  it  which  tlje  Scriptures 
have  communicated:  and  by  those  deductions 
which  may  be  fairly  inferred  from  its  concise,  but 
important  testimony.  He  was  armed  in  the  pano- 
ply of  innocence.  He  reflected  the  radiance  of 
divine  glory.  He  enjoyed  [jcrfect  and  undisturbed 
felicity.  Youth,  beauty,  majesty,  immortality, 
were  all  impressed  upon  him  ;  and  he  stood  at  the 
head  of  that  creation  which  God  himself  pro- 
nounced "very  good" — proudly  pre-eminent.  The 
Deity  favoured  him  with  his  presence  and  converse. 
Angels  were  his  companions.  The  harps  of  heaven 
were  heard  mingling  with  his  morning  and  even- 
ing devotions;  and  its  songs  rolled  along  the  tem- 
perate air  of  blissful  Eden.  The  voice  of  God, 
niore  charming  than  these,  whispered  among  the 
trees  of  the  garden  ;  and  the  communication  be- 
tween earth  and  heaven  was  easy,  was  immedi- 
ate, was  constant.  And  had  this  favoured  crea- 
ture nothing  in  which  to  glory  .^  Nothing  !  Every 
thing  commanded  gratitude — nothing  inspired 
boasting.  He  was  exactly  what  God  made  him: 
and  where  there  is  no  merit,  glorying  ought  to  be 
excluded. 

If  this  be  true  of  man  in  his  state  of  original 
rectitude,  of  what  can  he  properly  boast  now  that 
he  is  fallen  and  depraved  ?  His  beauty  is  faded  ; 
his  primeval  lustre  is  extinguished  ;  his  ancient 
magnificence  is  departed;  his  former  dignity  is 
degraded  ;  and  the  image  of  God  is  defaced,  and 


104  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

nearly  obliterated.  Yet  he  is  proud  of  those  frag- 
raents  of  greatness  which  remain  :  the  few,  expir- 
ing sparks  of  his  first  splendour,  light  up  within 
him  a  flame  of  vanity ;  he  loves  still  to  boast;  and 
we  must  examine  the  principles  upon  which  he 
founds  his  supposed  right  to  glory.  In  order  to 
prove  these  principles  false,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
point  out  the  subjects  which  swell  this  haughty 
creature  with  self-importance. 

He  has  no  right  to  boast  of  his  honours.  These 
are  generally  derived  :  they  may  be  bestowed,  by 
partial  favour;  they  may  be  worn  to  decorate  vice 
and  to  cover  infamy;  they  cannot  reach  beyond 
the  grave.  Death  mocks  at  human  majesty ;  con- 
vinces the  monarch  that  his  hereditary  honours 
are  only  lent  him,  and  must  pass  into  the  hands  of 
a  successor,  who  shall  resign  them  in  his  turn;  and 
arrests  the  hero  in  his  career  of  glory,  while  every 
tongue  proclaims  his  victories.  That  is  a  poor 
boast  which  a  moment  may  destroy. 

He  has  no  right  to  boast  of  his  riches.  They 
were  not  procured  by  his  own  efforts  alone.  The 
blessing  of  God  became  the  source  of  his  wealth. 
Stay,  proud  man,  and  before  you  glory,  learn  this 
wholesome  truth:  "Except  the  Lord  build  the 
house,  they  labour  in  vain  that  build  it ;  except 
the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  watchman  waketh  but 
in  vain."  Without  his  favour  "  it  is  in  vain  for 
you  to  rise  up  early,  to  sit  up  late,  and  to  eat  the 
bread  of  sorrows."  Let  the  wheat  boast  of  its  in- 
crease, when  it  lifts  its  light  green  head  above  the 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  105 

soil.  Let  the  flower  boast  of  its  skill,  in  the  dis- 
position of  those  lovely  tints  with  which  it  is 
adorned.  But  did  not  a  secret  hand  quicken  and 
expand  the  one?  and  a  divine  pencil  ornament  and 
arrange  the  other  ?  Shall  the  sun  and  the  shower 
say,  "  we  gave  vegetation  to  the  ])lant,  and  beauty 
to  the  flower?'  Both  of  these  were  employed  to 
produce  the  effect :  yet  how  false,  as  well  as  vain, 
were  this  boast !  for  while  they  were  the  instru- 
ments, God  was  the  agent.  Thus  has  he  been  in 
the  accumulation  of  property.  It  is  derived  from 
the  same  source  ;  it  is  permitted  by  the  same  hand  ; 
it  is  produced  by  the  same  power,  as  the  herb  and 
the  flower:  nor  is  the  existence  of  the  one,  and  the 
beauty  of  the  other,  more  uncertain  and  transient 
than  "  riches,  which  make  to  themselves  wings, 
and  fly  away,  as  eagles,  towards  heaven." 

He  has  no  right  to  glory  in  the  splendour  of  his 
external  establishment ;  or  in  the"  beauty  of  his 
personal  configuration.  Each  of  these  is  a  mere 
circumstance,  dejiending  upon  other  circumstances: 
a  slender  link  of  a  fragile  chain  ;  a  momentary 
lustre,  eclipsed  every  day,  exposed  to  every  blast 
of  adversity,  obscured  by  sudden  clouds,  and  liable 
to  by  quenched  altogether  every  instant.  And 
what  is  it  ?  While  it  has  the  instability  of  the  va- 
pour, it  is  outdone  by  the  lily.  It  as  an  excellence 
which  the  worm  possesses  in  greater  perfection. 
While  it  sparkles,  it  is  less  dazzling  than  the  but- 
terfly, when  he  expands  his  wings,  displaying  the 
10 


106  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

tints  of  the  rainbow  sprinkled  over  with  gold  : 
"yea,  I  say  unto  you,  that  even  Solomon,  in  all  his 
glory,  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these." 

He  has  no  right  to  glory  in  his  talents.  These 
may  be  distinguished,  but  they  are  limited  ;  and 
there  are  higher  orders  of  being  by  whom  he  is 
surpassed.  Are  they  self-derived  ?  or  are  they 
bestowed  ?  He  enjoys  them  by  permission  :  he 
received  them  as  a  free  gift ;  and  he  is  responsible 
for  the  use,  or  the  abuse  of  this  precious  boon. 
"For  who  maketh  thee  to  differ  from  another? 
and  what  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not  receive? 
now  if  thou  didst  receive  it,  why  dost  thou  glory, 
as  if  thou  hadst  not  received  it  ?"  These  also  have 
mutability  and  decay  inscribed  upon  them.  Time 
diminishes,  sickness  enfeebles,  accident  may  des- 
troy them.  It  requires  years  to  produce  their 
growth,  and  to  ripen  them  into  maturity.  Assiduity 
of  culture  is  necessary  to  give  them  impulse,  en 
largement,  and  vigour.  They  are  no  less  sensible 
of  infirmity  and  contraction.  How  easily  are  they 
suspended  and  annihilated,  as  to  their  present  use 
and  employment,  by  him  who  bestowed  them! 
The  philosopher  may  become  an  idiot,  exhibiting 
only  the  life  of  an  animal,  descending  from  the 
sphere  of  humanity,  with  all  his  great  faculties, 
his  laborious  researches,  and  even  his  natural 
reason,  locked  up,  never  to  be  released,  till  death 
arrives  to  terminate  the  calamity,  to  remove  the 
melancholy  spectacle,  and  to  emancipate  the 
prisoner. 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  107 

He  has  no  right  to  glory  in  his  acquirements 
How  small  a  portion  of  knowledge  lies  within  the 
grasp  of  his  capacity!  how  little  he  ohtains  of  that 
which  is  suhniitted  to  him !  When  the  human 
mind  is  irradiated  with  intelligence,  and  illuminat- 
ed by  science,  it  is  still  dark:  the  obscurity  is  dis- 
covered, but  not  removed  ;  and  the  last,  the  high- 
est lesson  of  wisdom,  is  to  teach  us  our  ignorance. 
Our  acquirements  are  exposed  tothesauie  changes 
and  to  the  same  dangers,  as  our  talents.  Age  will 
render  the  memory  treacherous,  and  steal  from  the 
man  the  treasures  which  he  hoarded  there;  a  sin- 
gle fever  can  strip  him  of  all ;  and  death  levels  the 
distinction  between  the  scholar  and  his  unlearned 
brother. 

He  has  no  right  to  boast  of  his  religion-  If  it  be 
genuine,  it  is  communicated  by  the  Holy  Spirit. 
It  is  not  his  own.  It  is  God  "  who  worketh  in  him 
to  will  and  to  do  his  own  good  pleasure."  From 
him  "all  holy  desires,  all  good  counsels,  and  all 
just  works  do  proceed."  It  is  as  much  an  act  of 
divine  power  to  renew  the  mind,  as  to  create  a 
world — it  requires  the  same  interposition  to  quicken 
the  spirit,  as  to  raise  the  dead.  Such  is  the  strength 
of  the  imagery  under  which  the  christian  charac- 
ter, in  its  formation  is  described,  that  it  follows, 
if  they  are  appropriate  figures,  the  production  of 
it  must  be  the  act  of  God:  nor  less  its  preser- 
vation ;  for  it  is  supplied  by  the  energy  by  which 
it   was  imparted.      Thus,   if  it  be   genuine,   we 


108  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

owe  the  glory  to  God :  and  if  it  be  not  genu- 
ine, it  is  not  worth  a  boast.  These  all,  are  the 
principal  subjects  in  whicb  men  glory ;  and 
these  all,  rightly  considered,  ought  to  exclude 
boasting. 


FiiRiLBIiISS. 


MONUMENTS  OF  HUMAN  GRANDEUR  PERISH. 

The  monuments  of  human  greatness  yield  in 
succession  to  the  destroying  influence  of  time. 
Whatever  is  magnificent,  or  beautiful,  or  excellent, 
possesses  only  a  temporary  influence,  and  com- 
mands only  a  transient  admiration  ;  in  the  course 
of  a  few  years,  or  at  most  a  few  ages,  imagination 
is  required  to  supply  departed  graces,  and  genius 
mourns  over  extinguished  glory.  The  combina- 
tions of  society  have  produced  astonishing  effects: 
to  man  in  his  collective  strength  nothing  is  impos- 
sible, and  few  things  appear  even  diflicult ;  he  has 
dared  every  thing ;  and  he  has  achieved  so  much 
as  amply  to  repay  him  for  his  labours.  The  extent 
of  sovereignty  which  he  grasped,  when  he  stretch- 
ed his  sceptre  over  numberless  provinces,  and 
planted  the  line  of  his  dominion  from  sea  to  sea, 
demonstrated  the  unbounded  character  of  his  am- 
bition, and  the  incalculable  variety  of  his  resources. 
The  stupendous  productions  of  art,  on  which  he 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  109 

inscribed  his  victories,  and  which  he  intended  as 
the  pillars  of  hisfame,  have  combined  and  exhibited 
all  that  is  sublime  in  conception,  and  all  that  is  grace- 
ful in  execution.  Could  he  have  attached  durability 
to  these,  his  triumph  would  have  been  complete — 
he  would  have  bound  time  to  his  chariot-wheels  > 
and  rendered  the  monuments  of  his  greatness 
coeval  with  the  existence  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 
But  that  irresistible  power  has  dissolved  all  the 
associations  which  he  formed,  and  overthrown  all 
the  structures  which  he  raised.  He  touched  the 
seats  of  empire  with  his  commanding  sceptre,  and 
the  thrones  of  the  earth  crumbled  into  dust. 
Scarcely  was  the  head  of  the  monarch  laid  beneath 
the  sod,  before  his  dominion  perished.  Scarcely 
the  active  hand  of  the  warrior  stiffened  in  death, 
ere  the  provinces  which  he  had  won  revolted,  and 
another  hero  arose — to  run  the  same  career  of 
danger  and  oppression,  to  mark  out  the  globe  for 
himself,  and  to  resign,  in  his  turn,  a  crown  so 
hardly  achieved.  Of  Nineveh — of  Babylon — we 
have  no  remains:  Of  Egypt  we  have  only  charac- 
ters of  degradation  :  of  Rome  there  exist  but  the 
melancholy  fragments  of  ruined  grandeur.  With 
the  respective  empires,  the  monuments  of  their 
power  have  been  defaced  or  destroyed.  Time  has 
wasted  the  Gardens — extinguished  the  Paros — 
prostrated  the  Colossus — ^^dilapidated  the  Temple — 
unravelled  the  Labyrinth — broken  down  the  Mau- 
soleum upon  its  dead — and  left  the  Pyramids  to 
mark  the    progress  of  his  eQacing  hand  passing 


110  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

over  them,  and  to  deride  the  foliy  of  human  ambi- 
tion, when  its  works  outlive  the  name  of  their 
projectors. 

When  these  exhibitions  of  human  abiUty  are 
swept  away  from  the  earth,  or  so  much  of  them 
only  remains  as  to  awaken  sentiments  of  pity  more 
lively  than  those  of  admiration,  history  restores  the 
empire,  and  science  rears  the  fallen  cities  anew. 
Again  Palmyra  rises  from  among  her  ruined  tem- 
ples and  tottering  pillars:  again  Rome  assumes 
the  sceptre  of  the  world,  and  binds  distant  nations 
to  her  throne.  The  work  of  the  destroyer  is  but 
half  effected,  while  the  record  of  former  times  re- 
mains. The  heroes  of  antiquity  live  over  again  ; 
and  the  great  monarchies  burst  forth  afresh  in  all 
their  yu'imeval  splendour.  Letters  seein  to  promise 
that  immortality  which  neither  arms  could  com- 
mand, nor  arts  acquire.  The  blaze  of  war  is 
quickly  extinguished: — it  is  indeed  a  devouring 
fire  ;  but  it  is  shortlived,  in  proportion  to  its  fierce- 
ness. Like  the  beacon  which  is  kindled  to  affright 
the  nations,  it  burned  for  a  night,  and  expired  upon 
its  own  ashes.  But  the  inspiration  of  the  poet  is 
a  lambent  flame,  playing  around  the  imagination 
from  age  to  age,  and  shedding  its  mild  and  brilliant 
light  upon  distant  lands  and  times,  when  the  con- 
suming element  of  discord  is  forgotten.  The  magic 
pen  of  the  historian  raises  from  their  resting  place 
the  departed  shades  of  i)rinces  and  warriors,  and 
embodying  them  in  their  proper  forms,  brings  them 
again  to  act  their  part  upon  the  stage  of  time,  fills 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  Ill 

the  world  with  new  agents,  and  enahles  us  to 
judge  of  their  characters  with  ease  and  accuracy  ; 
while  we  feel  ourselves  sheltered  from  the  miseries 
at  the  same  time  that  we  ascertain  the  extent  of 
their  policy  and  achievements.  Yet  this  mausole- 
um of  former  greatness  rears  its  majestic  head 
only  for  a  season.  In  vain  the  poet  and  the  histo- 
rian promise  themselves,  or  the  subjects  of  their 
eulogy,  immortality:  in  vain  they  flatter  them- 
selves that  they  have  erected  a  monument  more 
durable  than  brass,  loftier  than  the  royal  elevation 
of  the  pyramids ;  which  neither  the  wearing 
shower,  the  unavailing  tempest,  the  innumerable 
succession  of  years,  nor  the  flight  of  seasons,  shall 
be  able  to  demolish  :  they  dream  but  of  a  fnme 
that  shall  move  round  the  circle  of  time.  Many 
such  a  fond  enthusiast  has  floated  down  the  stream, 
without  leaving  even  the  wreck  of  his  name  as  a 
memorial.  And  of  those  who  have  stood  highest 
on  the  records  of  renown,  a  part  of  their  works 
has  perished.  Time  has  not  spared  even  science. 
The  precious  fragments  of  ancient  writings  resem- 
ble the  ruins  of  some  great  empire:  enough  re- 
mains to  delight,  to  impress,  to  instruct;  but  these 
remnants  cause  us  to  lament  the  more  bitterly  that 
which  is  lost  to  us,  as  an  evil  irreparable,  and  af- 
ford a  lesson  more  ample  of  human  vanity  than  of 
human  distinction. 


112  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

CHRIST.— A  TEACHER, 

In  confirmation  of  the  jud|,^ment  repeatedly  pass- 
ed upon  the  matchless  character  of  our  Lord's 
teaching-,  the  evangelists  have  sometimes  detailed 
its  features  according  to  their  apprehension;  and 
remarked,  "  He  taught  them  as  one  having  author- 
ity, and  not  as  the  scrihes."  This  authority  could 
not  intend  severity  of  manner  ;  for  this  would  have 
been  to  leach  "as  the  scribes,"  who  laid  much 
stress  upon  the  weight  and  dignity  ot  their  office, 
and  manifested  but  little  condescension  "to  men 
of  low  estate."  How  harshly,  how  arrogantly, 
they  censured  the  followers  of  Jesus!  "This  peo- 
ple, who  knoweth  not  the  law,  are  cursed."  How 
swift  to  judge  !  how  slow  to  reclaim  !  how  desti- 
tute of  holy  sympathy!  even  had  their  accusation 
been  well  founded.  Not  with  such  authority  did 
Jesus  teach  :  his  authority  was  power,  impression, 
effect — arising  from  the  sublimity  of  the  truths 
which  he  preached,  the  wisdom  with  which  he 
unfolded  them,  and  the  clearness  WMth  which  he 
applied  them.  Conviction  followed  his  words,  for 
demonstration  accompanied  them:  they  were 
spirit,  they  were  life.  He  could  appeal  to  the  rulers 
as  well  cs  to  the  multitude,  and  say,  "We  speak 
that  we  do  know,  and  testify  that  we  have  seen." 
His  instructions  had  weight,  both  from  the  impor- 
tance of  their  matter,  and  the  earnest,  affectionate, 
energetic  manner  in  which  they  were  addressed  to 
a  perishing  and  long  neglected  people.    The  nega- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  113 

tive,  he  taught  them  "  not  as  the  sc'ril)es,"  leaves  us 
much  to  supply.  He  reversed  all  the  haughty,  cen- 
sorious,ohscure,  and  careless  habits  of  that  degener- 
ate class  of  teachers.  His  condescension  was  mani- 
fest, in  addressing  the  multitude,  whom  they  treated 
with  contempt,  and  left  to  be  destroyed  by  vice 
and  ignorance.  He  sympathized  in  their  priva- 
tions, sliared  their  poverty,  elevated  their  hopes, 
imparted  to  them  knowledge,  and  soothed  their 
afflictions.  He  listened  to  their  inquiries,  resolved 
their  doubts,  bore  with  their  infirmities,  and  was 
unwearied  in  his  communications.  He  spake  a 
language  which  they  understood,  and  chose  sub- 
jects which  they  felt:  thus  leading  tliem  from  one 
degree  of  knowledge  to  another.  He  did  not  dis- 
dain to  walk  with  them,  to  eat  with  them  ;  to  en- 
force his  public  instructions  by  permitting  private 
audiences.  His  gentleness  was  apparent  in  all  his 
addresses.  He  did  not  scatter  curses  with  a  lavish 
and  indiscriminate  hand;  but,  although  all  judg- 
ment was  committed  to  him,  chose  rather  to  exer- 
cise his  delightful  commission — to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost.  Yes  ;  and  he  felt  it  to  be  a 
delightful  commission,  although  its  execution  en- 
tailed upon  him  numberless  privations  and  perse- 
cutions, and  an  ignominious  death.  The  Shepherd 
of  Israel  gathered  the  lambs  with  his  arm,  and 
carried  them  in  his  bosom  ;  he  collected  that  flock 
which  his  servants  had  scattered,  and  the  unfaith- 
ful pastors  devoured.  He  entreated,  persuaded, 
wept — quenching  the  lightning  of  his  eyes  in  tears 


114  BEAUTIES   OF   COLLYER. 

of  love;  and  silencing  the  thunders  of  heaven, 
that  the  whispers  of  mercy  might  be  heard.  The 
hypocrites  and  the  self-righteous  alone  were  the 
objects  of  his  holy  indignation;  upon  them  he 
turned  the  power  of  his  eloquence  and  the  terrors 
of  his  frown  ;  but  he  looked  invitation  to  the  poor, 
convinced,  despairing  sinner,  while  he  saifl,  "Come 
unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour,  and  are  heavy  laden, 
and  I  will  give  you  rest."  The  Imninous  chaiactev 
of  his  teaching  stood  opposed  to  tlje  heavy  litera- 
ture or  the  unintelligible  exposition  of  the  scribes. 
How  could  they,  who  did  not  themselves  under- 
stand the  law,  who  could  not  discern  the  Messiah 
in  it,  unfold  its  mysteries,  or  apply  its  revelations? 
Referring  its  leading  features  to  an  idol  of  their 
own  imagination,  while  the  great  original  stood 
before  them,  they  must  have  been  teachers  no  less 
obscure  than  unsafe.  A  temple  from  which  the  very 
types  were  fast  vanishing  away,  and  from  which  the 
Saviour  to  whom  they  related  was  expelled,  could 
have  but  few  attractions ;  and  the  multitudes 
flocked  to  the  side  of  the  mountain,  or  the  borders 
of  the  lake,  to  hear  that  exposition  of  the  law,  and 
to  receive  that  simple,  impressive,  convincing  in- 
formation, which  they  looked  for  in  vain,  from  the 
appointed  teachers,  and  in  that  once  distinguished 
house  of  prayer  from  which  the  glory  was  depart- 
ed. The  earnestness  and  energy  of  our  Lord's 
teaching  must  have  formed  a  strong  contrast  to 
the  supineness  and  indifference  of  the  scribes. 
Seeking  only  their  own  emolument  and  distinction, 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  115 

they  weie  careless  of  the  interests  of  the  imperish- 
able spirit.     Their  own  prophets  iiad  so  severely 
arraigned  such  teachers,  that  they  read  their  own 
condemnation  in  the  synagogue  every  sabbath  day  I 
and  if  they  were  so  blind  as  not  to  perceive,  or  so 
hardened  as  not  to  regard  it,  it  is  not  to  be  imagin- 
ed that  those  who  smarted  under  their  authority, 
and  perished  through  their  neglect,  could  be  equal- 
ly blind,  or  equally  indifferent.     Where  could  they 
look   for   a   faithful   shepherd,    when    the   whole 
priesthood    was    alike   corrupt?     Behold!    anew 
Teacher    arises— indifferent    to    circumstances — 
careful  only  of  principles.     He  can  teach  in  any 
place,  and  at  any  time.     He  is  found  labouring,  in 
season  and  out  of  season  :    He   preaches  from   a 
boat,  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  in  the  desert,  by  the  way 
gjde — he  consecrates  every  spot  by  his  doctrines 
and  prayers.     x\nd,  oh  !  how  eloquently  he  pleads 
the  cause  of  man  with   himself!  how  fervently  he 
argues  against  prejudice!  how  divinely  he  pities 
and  forgives!    how  clearly  he  describes  human 
ruin  and  redemption  !     This,  so  attractive  in  itself, 
became  irresistible  when  contrasted  with  the  pride 
and  indifference  of  their  teachers.     No  wonder  the 
common  people  heard  him  "  gladly."     Being  crafty 
then,  did  he  catch   them  with  guile?     O,  no!  dis- 
daining all   art,  influenced  alone  by  love  to  man, 
he  was  justifying  his  name,  Jesus;  he  was  accom- 
plishing his  work  as  a  Saviour  ;  he  was  winning 
the  souls  which  he  was  about  to  purchase  with  his 
own  blood. 


116  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

Such  were  some  of  the  characters  of  our  Lord's 
general  teaching ;  and  they  shame  our  levity,  they 
censure  our  indolence,  they  reprove  our  careless- 
ness, as  those  to  whom  lie  has  deigned  to  commit 
the  word  of  this  salvation.  Lives  there  the  minis- 
ter, who  does  not  feel  the  burning  blushes  of  shame 
and  indignation  against  himself  rise  to  his  cheek, 
while  he  contemplates  the  work  and  character  of 
his  Lord  ? — O,  for  the  mind  of  Christ,  to  rest  upon 
those  who  enter  into  the  labours  of  his  love,  and 
the  ministry  once  comtnitted  to  the  diligent  and 
faithful  hands  of  his  apostles! 


THE  MODEL  OF  A  GOSPEL  MINISTER  SHOULD 
BE  CHRIST  AND  HIS  APOSTLES. 

When  the  illustrious  rival  of  Demosthenes,  after 
an  unsuccessful  struggle  to  share  with  him  the  palm 
of  eloquence,  retreated  from  the  public  eye  to  con- 
ceal his  tlefeat  in  retirejnent,  he  had  the  magna- 
nimity to  place  the  oration  which  had  occasioned 
his  disgrace  in  the  hands  of  his  pupils  ;  and  when 
he  saw  their  countenances  kindling  as  they  read  it, 
until  they  were  unable  longer  to  restrain  their  feel- 
ings, which  broke  outinto  expressions  of  unbound- 
ed admiration,  so  far  from  suffering  jealousy  to 
withhold  from  his  victor  the  well  earned  meed  of 
praise,  he  encouraged  their  enthusiasm,  and  ex- 
claimed, "What  then  would  you  have  said  if  you 
had  heard  him  deliver  it  ?"    With  reflections  some 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  117 

what  correspondent,  I  read  the  sermons  of  our 
Lord  and  his  apostles,  as  they  are  recorded  in  the 
sacred  volume.  Glowing  and  elegant  passages, 
presented  only  to  the  eye,  lose  half  the  efficacy 
they  possessed,  when  the  ear  was  associated  with 
this  sense,  and  when  every  sentiment  was  embel- 
lished by  corresponding  tones  and  gestures.  The 
orations  of  such  nien  as  Demosthenes  and  Cicero 
may  well  be  admired:  for  what  must  have  been 
their  original  fire,  when  they  retain  so  much  heat 
still,  and  present  themselves  to  us  so  advantageous- 
ly, without  the  auxiliaries  of  manner  and  emphasis 
after  the  lapse  of  so  many  years,  and  when  the  in- 
terests which  excited  them  have  ceased  !  The  ser- 
mons of  our  Lord  and  of  his  apostles,  have  the 
disadvantages  common  to  all  written  discourses  ; 
and  some  peculiar  to  themselves.  They  are  trans- 
mitted to  us  mere  fragments — as  sketches,  hastily 
but  faithfully  drawn.  And,  if,  for  instance,  the 
train  of  discussion  pursued  by  St.  Paul  at  Athens, 
appearing  on  the  pages  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles 
as  a  line  faintly  traced  by  a  masterly  hand,  rushes 
through  the  mind,  and  overpowers  the  feelings; 
what  must  it  have  been  to  have  seen  and  heard 
him  on  that  occasion,  when  his  spirit  was  stirred 
within  him,  and  he  stood  to  plead  the  cause  of 
truth  and  religion,  surrounded  by  the  altars  of 
superstition,  and  the  images  of  idolatry  !  If  the 
imagination  is  early  inspired  by  the  most  beautiful 
specimens  of  classical  eloquence,  the  judgment 
must  often  regret  that  so  much  force  should  be 


118  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

wasted  upon  subjects  so  trivial — upon  circum- 
stances local  and  transient,  upon  fading  interests ; 
and  still  more  must  the  moral  taste  be  shocked, 
that  these  illustrious  talents  should  be,  as  they 
frequently  were,  prostituted  to  the  service  of  vice, 
and  heavenly  eloquence  debased  to  excuse  or 
commend  brutal  passions.  This  accusation  can 
never  be  alleged  against  the  inspired  volume.  Su- 
perior to  all  other  writings  in  the  majesty  of  its 
style,  it  infinitely  excels  them  in  the  character  of 
its  subjects  :  it  never  seduces,  never  trifles,  never 
advocates  or  extenuates  evil :  it  is  irresistibly  elo- 
quent, and  it  is  essentially  true. 

To  these  writings,  therefore,  rather  than  to  any 
of  the  admired  models  of  antiquity,  should  the 
preacher  go,  to  gather  both  the  matter  and  the 
manner  of  his  sermons.  It  may  become  the  phy- 
sician to  compare  his  knowledge  and  experience 
with  the  researches  and  observations  of  others 
celebrated  in  former  ages  for  excelling  in  his 
science.  It  behoves  the  politician  to  be  versed  in 
the  history  of  ancient  as  well  as  modern  times,  that 
he  may  be  well  acquainted  with  the  secret  springs 
of  government,  and  develope  the  causes  which  im- 
pede or  facilitate  their  operation.  It  is  profitable 
to  the  sculptor  to.  recur  to  the  remaining  speci- 
mens of  those  mighty  masters  of  an  art  which  was 
long-  upon  the  decline,  and  which  has  not  yet 
wholly  recovered  those  just  proportions  and  that 
graceful  symmetry  which  distinguished  the  chisels 
of  antiquity.     Nor  would  we  deprive  the  minister 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  119 

of  those  gratifications  which  must  result  to  him  as 
a  scholar,  from  an  acquaintance  with  the  pages  of 
classical  literature  :  hut  as  a  jireacher,  we  send 
him  to  learn  his  science,  and  the  best  method  of 
imparting  it,  to  the  models  presented  in  the  scrip- 
tures themselves:  and  call  him  from  the  Grecian 
or  the  Roman  orator,  to  learn  of  Peter,  and  Paul, 
and  James,  and  John  ;  above  all,  to  sit  at  the  feet 
of  Jesus  himself.  For,  if  these  remarks  are  just, 
respecting  the  servants,  they  njust  apply  with  still 
greater  force  to  the  Master  ;  and  the  parables  of 
Jesus  contain  more  perfect  examples  of  the  wisdom 
and  beauty  of  his  instructions,  than  any  sketches 
of  his  continued  discourses  furnish;  because  they 
are  finished,  as  to  the  detail  of  their  imagery  ;  they 
are  not  mere  outline — they  are  filled  up,  and  the 
occasions  of  them  are  recorded  sufiiciently  to  en- 
able us  to  ascertain  with  precision  the  sentiment 
conveyed  in  the  figure  employed. 


THE  MINISTRY  WHICH  GOD  APPROVES. 

That  preaching  must  be  always  deemed  the 
most  scriptural,  wliich,  while  it  attracts  the  vicious 
by  the  force  and  affection  of  its  appeals,  is  found 
to  reclaim  them  by  the  purity  and  divinity  of  its 
principles.  The  sermons  which  only  please  the 
superficial,  or  interest  the  learned  by  their  specula- 
lions  or  gratify  the  polite  by  their  taste  and  elo- 
quence, may  indeed  give  a  transient  popularity  to 


120  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

the  preacher — which  he  ought  to  despise,  if  lent 
him  on  such  grounds ;  or  distinguish  him  as  a  man 
of  elegant  literature  ;  but  the  ministry  which  God 
approves  is  founded  upon  tlie  grand  and  convinc- 
ing doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  and  wliile  it  often  gives 
offence  because  of  its  plainness  and  simplicity, 
never  fails  to  subdue  human  obduracy,  and,  gather- 
ing the  vilest  characters  around  the  cross,  while  it 
pronounces  their  pardon,  requires  their  obedience. 


DUTIES. 


REVEALED  TRUTHS  AFFORD   TO  FAITH  ITS 
PROPER  EXERCISE. 

These  are  of  a  nature  inexplicable  by  any  mere- 
ly mental  powers;  and  to  be  apprehended  only  by 
a  principle  as  spiritual  as  themselves.  The  senses, 
and  objects  of  sense  are  adapted  to  each  other. 
The  reason,  and  subjects  of  reason,  are  mutually 
intellectual,  and  precisely  accordant.  But  doc- 
trines which  are  not  cognizable  by  sense,  nor  at- 
tainable by  reason,  demand  a  faculty  of  their  own, 
by  which  they  may  be  appreciated  and  apprehend- 
ed. And  let  not  the  sceptic  exult,  as  though  this 
concession  involved  the  rationality  of  religion — it 
is  most  rational  always  to  suppose  faculties  adapt- 
ed to  the  subjects  to  which  they  are  to  be  appUed; 
and  I  do  not  see,  if  the  being  of  God  be  admitted, 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  12I 

and  it  be  granted,  as  an  inevitable  corollary,  that 
It  is  of  infinite  importance  to  man  to  know   his 
duties  to  his  Creajor,  how  this  knowledge  is  to  be 
obtained,  except  by  revelation,  or  how  revelation 
can  be    supposed  to    act,    except   by  faith.     The 
things  which  we  want  to  know,  in  such  a  connex- 
ion,  lie   beyond  the   line   of  nature;  and    reason 
sought  them  in  the  exercise  of  all  the  brightness  of 
her  faculties,  and  the  ardour  of  her  inquiries,  until 
baffled    and    wearied   in  her  researches,  without 
having  discovered  "the  mystery  which  was  hid 
from  ages  and  generations,"  she  was  compelled  to 
desist,  and  to  confess  that  "  the  world  by  wisdom 
knew   not   God."      Then    revelation    interposed; 
and   "life  and  immortality  were  brought  to  light 
by  the  gospel."     Nothing  contrary  to  reason  can 
be  justly  alleged  against  her  ;    but  we  find  every 
where,  every  thing  that  surpasses  it.     She  leads  us 
beyond  the  confines  of  nature,  to  lose  ourselves  in 
the  Infinite— beyond  material  suns,  to  adore  the 
uncreated  Fountain  of  Light.     She  takes  reason  by 
the  hand,  as  the  companion  of  her  way,  till  the 
powers  of  reason   fail— and  then,  spreading  her 
immortal  pinions,   bears  the  spirit  into    eternity 
and  places  it  at  the  foot  of  the  throne  of  God, 
11 


122  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

CHRISTIANITY  DISTINGUISHED  FROM  MOD- 
ERN PHILOSOPHY. 

"Thou  slialt  love  tliy  neiglibour   as  thyself." 
In  this  duty   Christianity  distinguishes  itself  from 
modern  philosophy ;  which,  affecting  an  universal 
philanthro])y,  trampled  upon  home,  interests,  and 
natural  affections.     It  theoretically  projected  the 
moral  cultivation  of  the  world  ;  and  commenced 
its  disastrous  and  ruinous  career  by  plucking  up 
the  hedge  planted  around  the  domestic  and  social 
enclosure.     It  made  attention,  to  the  individual,  a 
crime  ;    while  it  boasted  of  love  to  the  species. 
Revelation   advances  hand   in   hand  with  nature. 
Its  auspicious  influence  begins  at  home.     It  is  felt 
first  by  the  family — then  in  the  neighbourhood.   It 
acknowledges  patriotism,  without  forgetting   hu- 
manity :  and  serves  the  cause  of  universal  benevo- 
lence, by  cherishing  the  charities  of  natural  con- 
nexion.    But  here  it  does  not  rest — nor  was  ever 
designed  to  stay   its  beneficent  purpose.     Every 
human  being  is  my  neighbour,  when  that  human 
being  is  in  want,  and  I  have  it  in  my  power  to 
succour  him.     It  more  than  adopts  the  maxim  of 
the  heathen  poet — "I  am  a  man,  and  nothing  hu- 
man is  foreign  from  my  heart."     It  turns  sentiment 
into  action — and  urges  conviction  to  exertion.     It 
writes  upon  the  heart,  "Pure  religion  and  undefil- 
ed,  from  God  even  the  Father,  is  this — to  visit  the 
fatherless  and  the  widow  in  their  affliction,  and  to 
keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  world."     Match 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  123 

less  combination  !  The  God  of  purity,  who  de- 
mands the  sanctity  of  his  creatures,  and  says, 
"Without  hohness  shall  no  man  see  the  Lord  ;"  is 
also  the  God  of  love — and  commands,  "Be  ye 
kindly  afFectioned  one  towards  another.  Thou 
shalt   love   thv   nei^^hbour   as   thvself." 


Wherever  Christianity  has  flourished,  mercy  has 
reigned.  She  has  imparted  to  our  country  her 
proudest  superiority.  It  is  not  the  superiority  of 
her  genius — although  the  fame  of  her  children  has 
filled  all  lands,  and  gone  forth  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  It  is  not  the  superiority  of  her  arms — 
although  she  has  carried  her  thunder  to  the  most 
distant  climes,  and  subjected  to  herself  the  world 
of  waters.  But  it  is  the  superiority  of  her  char- 
ities. She  is  satisfied  to  yield  to  matchless  Greece, 
to  imperial  Rome,  and  to  many  a  modern  state, 
the  splendor  of  palaces,  and  the  magnificent  mon- 
uments of  architectural  skill :  but  she  yields  to 
none,  she  surpasses  all,  in  her  beneficence  ;  and 
she  subordinates  even  the  arts  to  her  compassion, 
and  displays  the  fairest  and  most  perfect  models  of 
their  excellence  in  her  houses  of  mercy.  This  is 
her  living  temple — consecrated  to  the  God  to  whom 
she  owes  her  liberties — and  from  whom  she  re- 
ceived the  command,  "Thou  shalt  love  thy  neigh- 
bour as  thyself." 

Exulting  in  his  favour,  and  adopting  love  to  him 
as  the  principle  of  our  lives,  we  shall  find  that  the 


124  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

enlargement  of  the  action  nuist  correspond  with 
the  infinity  of  its  source.  Overstepping  the  limits 
of  political  demarcation,  it  will  find  a  hrother  in 
every  country:  immortal  as  the  Deity  from  whom 
it  emanates,  it  will  triumph  over  age  and  infirmity 
— and  we  "shall  not  be  weary  in  well-doing;" 
conscious  of  its  source,  it  will  live  amidst  the  ag- 
onies of  death  ;  and  rising  above  the  tomb,  it  will 
find  its  centre  in  God  himself,  and  its  full  expan- 
sion, its  unfettered  exercise,  amidst  the  sinless 
ranks  of  angels,  the  spirits  of  tlie  just  made  perfect, 
the  glorious  inhabitants  of  heaven,  in  a  world 
where  love,  and  love  alone,  forever  reigns. 


SUBMISSION  IN  AFFLICTION. 

It  is  always  easy  to  give  to  others  the  best  pos- 
sible rules  for  the  regulation  of  their  ])assions, 
tempers,  and  spirits  in  the  hour  of  affliction — but, 
oh  !  if  the  visitation  is  upon  ourselves,  all  our  phi- 
losophy, and  too  much  of  our  religion,  forsakes  us. 
We  forget  our  suflerings,  and  too  often  our  obliga- 
tions, and  feel  only  the  smart  of  our  chastisement. 
We  are  intent  upon  the  rod,  until  we  forget  alto- 
gether "Him  who  hath  appointed  it;"  and  that 
which  was  falsely  charged  upon  patient  Job,  is  but 
too  true  of  us — "  Behold  thou  hast  instructed  many, 
and  thou  hast  strengthened  the  weak  hands. 
Thy  words  have  upholden  him  that  was  falling, 
and  thou  hast  strengthened  the  feeble  knees.     But 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  125 

now  it  has  come  upon  thee  and  thou  faintest;  it 
touchelh  thee,  and  tliou  art  troubled," 

What,  then,  is  the  submission  required  in  afLYic- 
tion?  Let  us  at  least  learn  the  duty,  if  it  be  only 
to  ascertain  how  far  we  fall  sliort  of  it,  and  to  be 
humbled  accordingly.  It  is  not  to  be  insensible. 
What  good  end  can  affliction  answer,  if  it  be  not 
felt?  Where  is  christian  heroism,  if  nothing  be 
endured  ?  Wliat  sacrifice  is  it,  if  that  which  is  re- 
quired be  not  valued  ?  Christianity  knows  nothing 
of  the  stoicism  which  forbids  the  heart  to  suffer, 
and  the  tear  to  flow.  Its  glory  is  to  feel  all  the 
affliction,  and  to  produce  a  consolation  which  shall 
more  than  alleviate  it — more  than  counterbalance 
it — which  shall  turn  the  most  threatening  circum- 
stances into  the  most  essential  benefit — and  from 
the  trial  of  our  faith,  educe  the  salvation  of  our 
souls.  Philosophy  boasts  of  making  the  heart  as 
adamant — so  that  the  lightning  shall  strike  it,  and 
find  it  an  impassive,  impenetrable,  insoluble  rock 
of  ice:  Christianity  professes  to  make  it  "a  heart 
of  flesh,"  alive  to  every  impression;  all  suscepti- 
bility and  sensibility — vital  through  every  nerve, 
fibre,  and  particle — and  to  subordinate  the  whole 
to  the  divine  will,  and  the  divine  government.  O, 
glorious  triumpli !  the  triumph  of  the  most  perfect 
feeling,  and  of  the  most  perfect  faith,  at  the  same 
moment ! 

As  it  is  not  to  be  insensible,  so  submission  im- 
plies that  it  is  not  to  be  hardened.  The  christian 
has  the  fortitude  to  encounter  death,  but  he  has 


126  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

not  the  courage  to  defy  God.  "Who  ever  har- 
dened himself  against  him,  and  prospereci  ?"  But 
it  is  not,  with  the  good  man,  a  subject  of  calcula- 
tion. It  is  a  principle  emanating  from  God — sub- 
ordinating all  things  to  its  influence — recognizing 
him  under  all  circumstances — and  in  submitting  to 
his  wise  and  gracious,  though  frequently  painful, 
and  always  mysterious  appointments — sheltering 
itself  under  his  power,  and  reposing  in  his  tender- 
ness. It  is  not  the  winding  up  of  every  faculty  of 
the  mind,  and  every  corporeal  agent  to  the  pitch 
of  endurance;  but  the  prostration  of  every  mental 
power,  and  every  earthly  possession,  before  the 
great  Proprietor  of  all — thus  placing  his  own  at 
his  entire  disjios^^al.  No  resistance  is  opposed  to 
the  rights  of  Deity — but  the  acknowledgment  is, 
"  it  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do  wliat  seemeth  him  good." 
"The  cup  which  my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall 
I  not  drink  it?"  "Not  my  will,  thy  will  be  done." 
No  complaint  is  breathed — nature  may  speak,  but 
ought  not  to  accuse — she  may  give  vent  to  her 
grief,  but  not  charge  God  foolishly.  "  Shall  we 
receive  good  at  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  and  shall 
we  not  receive  evil  also  ?"  "  He  hath  not  dealt  with 
us  after  our  sins,  neither  hatlj  he  rewarded  us  ac- 
cording to  our  iniquities."  NoJUght  is  attempted 
like  that  of  our  guilty  first  parent,  when  he  would 
have  concealed  himself  amidst  the  trees  of  the  gar- 
den— or  the  no  less  vain  effort  of  Jonah,  to  flee 
from  his  commission,  and  the  presence  of  him  by 
whom  it  was  imposed.    No  imputation  will  be  al- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  127 

leged  against  the  moral  government  of  God,  or  the 
benevolence  of  his  ciiaracter;  nor  will  hard 
thoughts  he  indulged  of  him,  even  in  the  heart. 
That  they  may  he  suggested  is  probable ;  but  that 
they  will  be,  by  the  christian,  repelled  with  righte- 
ous indignation,  is  certain:  and  submissive  acqui- 
escence will  rise  into  entire  resignation,  inducing 
the  temper,  while  it  employs  the  language  of  the 
text— "The    will   of  the   Lord    be   done." 


CAPTIVITY  THE  CHARACTERISTIC  OF  SPIRIT. 

Activity  is  the  characteristic  of  spirit ;  and  noth- 
ing so  completely  distinguishes  it  from  the  body, 
as  the  instrument  of  its  volitions,  than  this  body 

ike  allmatter,  waits  for  a  foreign  impulse,  to  put 
all  its  fine  and  beautiful  organization  into  motion. 
It  is  most  delicately  and  surprisingly  adapted  to 
all  the  purposes  to  which  its  operations  can  possibly 
be  applied.  In  some  instances  the  gossomerwing 
of  the  sunmier's  fly  is  not  a  film  more  attenuated 
than  its  fibres— in  others,  iron  and  brass  are  less 
durable  than  its  muscular  action— in  all,  a  wisdom 
and  complexity  are  visible,  which  not  only  surpass 
human  skill,  but  which  defy  human  research,  and 
compel  the  anatomist  to  admire  what  he  compre- 
hends, and  to  leave  unsolved  the  great  results  of 
nerves  and  animal  spirits,  and  sympathies,  in  which 
he  is  reduced  to  employ  terms  relative  to  efl^ects, 
the  causes  of  which  he  in  the  mysterious  union  be- 


128  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

tween  mind  and  matter,  far  beyond  the  cogni- 
zance of  the  most  sensitive  touch,  the  most  pene- 
trating eye,  and  the  most  patieLt  investigation — 
while  philosophy,  speculating  upon  the  little  that 
is  certainly  known,  presumes  much  upon  that 
which  is  undiscovered,  and  often  weaves  a  theory 
of  which  ingenuity  is  its  principal  recommenda- 
tion. In  the  mean  while,  all  this  is  but  the  exter- 
nal display  of  the  matchless  machinery — the  main- 
spring of  which  is  spirit  Life  was  communicated 
directly  from  the  Creator;  and  is  so  immediately 
imparted  in  all  successive  generations.  It  is  grant- 
ed at  an  unknown  moment — it  takes  its  departure 
as  secretly.  In  both  cases  we  are  conscious  of  its 
presence  or  absence,  only  by  certain  external 
movements — the  source  of  the  impulse  is  always 
secret.  Yet,  while  it  is  encircled  with  a  body, 
which  seems  rather  its  prison  than  its  palace,  be- 
cause of  the  manifest  restraint  which  it  lays  upon 
its  mighty  energies,  its  powers  are  not  to  be  whol- 
ly limited  to  the  vehicle  of  its  volitions.  Some- 
times it  breaks  the  boundaries  of  its  mortal  condi- 
tion— soars  beyond  all  material  worlds,  and  all 
their  suns,  in  its  unfettered  imagination  :  and  at 
others,  when  the  body  is  laid  asleep  in  the  uncon- 
sciousness of  animation  temporally  suspended, 
roams  far  remote  from  the  fields  of  nature,  em- 
bodies uncreated  forms,  and  presents  the  awful 
and  inexplicable  phenomenon  of  dreams — the 
enigma  of  philosophy,  and  the  sure  pledge  of  im- 
mortality- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  129 

TRUST  IN  GOD  INCOMPATIBLE  WITH  THE 
NEGLECT  OF  DUTY. 

He  only  can  be  truly  said  to  confide  in  God 
who  waits  upon  him  in  his  ordinances,  in  his  word, 
and  by  earnest  supplication  to  learn  his  will — who 
watches  narrowly  every  signal  of  his  providence — 
receives  thankfully  every  intimation  of  his  plea- 
sure— obeys  cheerfully  every  indication  of  the  divine 
mind — and  en)ploys  diligently  all  the  means  with 
which  God  has  furnished  him,  to  promote  his  own 
interests  in  conformity  with  those  of  society.  Ev- 
ery thing  has  its  season,  and  "  he  hath  made  every 
thing  beautiful  in  his  time."  But  if  the  season  is 
suflTered  to  pass  away  unimproved — all  is  lost.  And 
who  is  to  be  censured?  the  beneficent  Creator, 
whose  unwearied  liberality  affords  a  succession  of 
mercies,  and  an  ample  supply  of  good  ?  or  the 
shameless  trifler,  who  neglects  the  opportunity,  and 
slights  the  benefactor?  "Go  to  the  ant,  thou  slug- 
gard; consider  her  ways  and  be  wise."  Shall  he 
who  suffers  the  seed  time  to  pass,  and  his  field  to  lie 
fallow,  accuse  Providence  because  he  has  no  har- 
vest? Oh,  ungrateful  man!  how  often  did  the  sea- 
sons pass,  and  lift  up  their  warning  voice  in  vain. 
Spring,  the  most  beautiful  of  them  all,  the  earliest 
and  fairest  daughter  of  the  year,  came — and  in 
accents  which  charmed  the  nightingale,  said.  "Lo, 
the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over,  and  gone.  The 
flowers  appear  on  the  earth,  the  time  of  the  sing- 
ing of  birds  is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is 
12 


130  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

heard  in  our  land.  The  fig  tree  pulteth  forth  her 
green  figs,  and  the  vines  with  the  tender  grape 
give  a  good  smell.  Arise — and  come  away  I"  And 
the  insensible  trifler  slumbered.  She  scattered  her 
perfumes,  and  showered  her  blossoms,  and  depart- 
ed. Then  came  Summer,  and  found  the  sluggard 
asleep.  He  came,  with  his  face  embrowned  with 
labour,  and  glowing  with  energy.  He  wore  the 
circlet  of  his  majesty,  a  wreath  of  the  fiercest  sun- 
beams— and  cried  aloud  in  the  voice  of  his  own 
thunder — "  What  meanest  thou,  O  sleeper;  arise, 
and  call  upon  thy  God."  The  loiterer  was  roused, 
he  started  up — he  saw  all  nature  teeming  with  life, 
and  replete  with  energy — he  gazed  for  a  moment, 
admired  the  scene — laid  himself  down,  and  slept 
again.  Summer  began  to  veil  the  intensity  of  his 
brightness,  and  yielded  to  Autumn — she  drew  near, 
with  a  solemn  and  gentle  pace — and  when  she  had 
gathered  her  ripe  clusters,  passed  by  the  sleeper, 
and  sprinkled  him  with  her  chilling  dew-drops — 
while  she  admonished — "Redeem  the  time — work 
while  it  is  called  day — for  the  night  cometh  when 
no  man  can  work:"  and  retired,  unheard.  At 
length  when  the  hollow  blast  announced  the  ap- 
])roach  of  the  closing  season,  and  the  lastsear  lear 
was  swept  from  the  tree — the  man  awoke,  to  catch 
the  parting  gleams  of  the  setting  sun — and  to  see 
Winter  ride  on,  in  his  car  of  storms,  driven  by  the 
whirlwind,  and  canopied  with  clouds  and  darkness. 
And  while  he  casts  a  desponding  eye  upon  the 
dreary  waste  of  desolation,  stretched  around  him 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  131 

on  every  side,  can  such  a  man  presume  to  arraign 
the  benii^nity  of  providence,  because  he  finds  him- 
self without  shelter,  and  without  provision  ? 

While  we  avoid  negligence,  therefore,  on  the 
one  hand,  let  us  beware  of  undue  anxieties  on  the 
other  ;  equally  inconsistent  as  these  are  with  that 
submission  to  providence,  which,  in  the  use  of  the 
prescribed  means,  confides  the  whole  to  the  divine 
paternity.  Shall  not  he,  who  has  browglit  us  hith- 
erto, through  every  difficulty — through  perils  seen 
and  unseen — who  has  sustained  us,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  friends  and  of  enemies — who  has  done  for 
us  "exceeding  abundantly  above  all  that  we  could 
either  ask  or  think" — who  has  made  our  strength 
equal  to  our  day,  and  his  grace  sufficient  for  us — 
who  has  disappointed  our  fears  and  surpassed  our 
hopes — who  has  never  neglected,  never  abandon- 
ed, never  forgotten  us — shall  not  he  be  trusted 
with  the  little  oflife  that  remains?  "  O  ye  of  little 
faith,  wherefore  do  ye  doubt?" — "Seek  ye  first  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness,  and  all 
other  things  shall  be  added  unto  you."  "Take, 
therefore,  no  thought,"  no  doubting,  anxious,  un- 
due thouglit,  "for  the  morrow: — for  the  morrow 
shall  take  thought  for  the  things  of  itself.  Suffi- 
cient unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  lie  who  re- 
ally submits  to  Providence,  is  armed  against  every 
foe,  fortified  against  every  danger — prepared  for 
every  event — superior  to  every  calamity — 
"  His  hand  the  good  man  fastens  on  the  skies — 
Then  bids  the  earth  roll,  nor  feels  her  idle  whirl!" 


132  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

He  defies  time,  chance,  and  change — for  he  trusts 
in  Him,  who  is  the  same  "yesterday,  and  to  day, 
and  forever !" 


SOCIAL  INTERCOURSE. 

Before  a  man  can  confer  upon  society,  or  re- 
ceive from  it  advantages,  he  must  possess  social 
affections,  and  form  social  habits.  Without  the 
first,  he  is  incapable  of  deriving  satisfaction  from 
intercourse  with  his  fellow-men.  If  his  hopes  and 
his  fears,  his  pleasures  and  his  pains,  are  selfish, 
he  comes  into  contact  with  society  by  accident  on- 
ly :  he  never  seeks  its  interchanges  of  kindness: 
the  collision  shocks  rather  than  pleases  him :  he  is 
incapable  of  association  :  circumstances  may  throw 
him  and  his  neighbour  together,  but  aflTection  alone 
can  form  an  union  ;  this  is  the  cement  of  kindred 
spirits  ;  and  without  it,  the  man  withdraws  so  soon 
as  possible  to  his  solitude,  like  the  brute,  to  devour 
his  morsel  alone.  There  may  be  temporary  adhe- 
sion, where  there  is  no  permanent  conibination — lo- 
cality, without  admixture:  pressure  may  unite  two 
bodies  for  a  season,  when  there  is  no  actual  junc- 
tion. There  may  be  communion  without  conge- 
niality— a  confederacy  of  interests  or  convenience, 
without  concord  of  mind  and  temper.  These  alli- 
ances are  fortuitous,  and  cannot  be  permanent: 
while  they  last,  they  want  the  true  social  bond — 
soul ;  and   when  they  are  dissolved,  there  is  no 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  133 

parting  pang — it  is  rather  a  subject  of  gratulatlon. 
General  intercourse  ftartakes  too  much  of  this  ad- 
ventitious and  selfish  character,  to  deserve  the  no- 
bler appellation  of  social — it  is  contact,  but  not 
communion. 

We  have  spoken  of  hahits,  as  well  as  of  affec- 
tions, as  essential  to  society.  A  social  state  re- 
quires something  attractive  and  winning  in  the 
manners;  some  pliability  of  temper;  some  self- 
denial;  some  sacrifices.  Some  of  these  things 
will  appear  under  the  division  of  personal  duties  ; 
when  describing  particular  dispositions  of  mind, 
we  shall  easily  see,  what  tempers  and  manners 
best  suit  the  social  state  ;  and  others  will  be  spec- 
ified on  the  present  occasion,  as  we  follow  the 
subject:  general  hints  respecting  habits,  are  all 
that  can  now  be  furnished  ;  with  a  few  obligations, 
as  universal  as  they  are  obvious,  which  must  be 
enumerated. 

Habits  of  peace  should  be  cultivated.  A  temper 
apt  to  take  fire,  is  like  Samson's  foxes  carrying 
their  burning  brands  into  the  corn-fields— their 
course  is  fury,  and  its  consequences  desolation. 
An  intermeddling  temper,  fond  of  prying  into  priv- 
acy, of  tale  bearing,  of  scattering  abroad  the  un- 
certain information  so  imf)erfectly  gleaned,  and  so 
surreptitiously  obtained,  produces  incalculable 
mischief; — it  resembles  Solomon's  madman,  scat- 
tering "  firebrands,  arrows,  and  death  ;  and  saying, 
Am  I  not  in  sport?"    The  scourge  of  this  disposi- 


134  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

tion  must  fall  under  the  vices  of  the  tongue,  in  the 
discussion  of  its  government. 

"If  it  be  possible  as  much  as  lieth  in  you,  live 
peaceably  with  all  men" — and  this  is  to  be  done 
only  by  avoiding  occasions  of  offence.  "  Study  to 
be  quiet,  and  to  do  your  own  business" — this  is  the 
christian  rule,  and  it  is  the  most  simple  and  effec- 
tual that  can  be  imagined  to  secure  the  advantages 
of  society  :  which  will  depend  more  upon  our  habits 
of  mildness  and  conciliation,  than  ui)on  our  most 
active  services,  even  were  these  supported  by  a  ge- 
nius as  powerful  as  our  spirits  are  ardent.  In  pre- 
serving union,  more  is  to  be  avoided,  than  accom- 
plished:  and  our  most  severe,  and  most  ijnportant 
duties,  will  be  often  those  rather  which  are  passive, 
than  those  which  are  active. 

Habits  of  ju5h*ce  are  required,  without  which, 
the  social  compact  must  be  speedily  dissolved.  The 
oppressor,  like  Ishmael,  has  his  hand  against  eve- 
ry man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  him.  He 
who  refuses  to  act  his  part  in  society,  is  a  fragment 
broken  off  from  the  grand  structure,  deforming  the 
edifice  by  the  little  chasm  which  he  has  left,  and 
lying  neglected  upon  the  ground,  while  he  partakes 
of  neither  the  grandeur  or  the  strength,  the  unity 
or  the  durability  of  the  building.  Such  a  fragment 
is  the  indolent;  who  contributes  nothing  to  the 
general  weal,  and  is  treated  in  return  with  just  in- 
difference. 

Moderation  is  of  importance  in  our  social  habits. 
The  mind  that  has  no  resources  in  itself  is  too  apt 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  135 

to  prey  upon  others — to  invade  retirement — to  in- 
terrupt private  duties — to  tax  the  patience  and  ur- 
banity of  the  friendly  and  the  industrious: — and 
this,  not  intentionally,  but  from  an  habitual  sloth, 
which  incapacitates  the  social  persecutor  from  du- 
ly estimating  the  time  so  invaluable  to  others — and 
a  no  less  habitual  selfishness,  which  forgets  what 
is  due  to  other  interests  than  its  own,  and  too  high- 
ly rates  its  personal  gratifications.  "Withdraw 
thy  foot  from  thy  neighbour's  house,  lest  he  be 
weary  of  thee,  and  hate  thee." 

Habits  of  delicacy  deeply  influence  society. 
There  is  a  rudeness  that  oflTends  a  gentle  spirit, 
where  no  evil  is  intended  by  the  boisterous  asso- 
ciate. Himself  a  stranger  to  milder  emotions,  he 
feels  astonished  that  those  who  would  prize  his 
sterling  qualities  shrink  from  his  company.  But 
if  the  enjoyments  of  society  arise  from  that  kind 
and  amiable  spirit  of  mutual  accommodation, 
which  calls  forth  the  buds  and  blossoms  of  the 
moral  and  intellectual  world,  as  the  genial  influ- 
ences of  the  spring  unfold  the  flowers  and  foli- 
age of  the  visible  creation,  this  turbulent  invader 
of  the  social  circle  comes,  like  the  east  wind  of  that 
season  of  promise,  beauty,  and  mutability,  to 
spread  desolation  over  the  fair  scenery,  by  blowing 
upon  it  too  roughly. 

Habits  of  consistency,  must  be  considered  as  es- 
sential to  the  well-being  of  society,  and  should  be 
carefully  cultivated.  Caprice  destroys  confidence 
— and  confidence  is  the  foundation  of  all  real  com- 


136  BEAUTIES   OF   COLLYER. 

munion.  If  one  mode  of  conduct  be  pursued  to- 
day, and  another  to-morrow,  the  uncertainty  an- 
nihilates trust.  If  that  which  pleases  one  moment? 
ofienus  the  next — farewell  the  pleasure  of  inter- 
course, and  with  it  the  social  imion.  To  press  this 
individual  point  of  consistency,  must  belong  to  the 
government  of  the  temper,  hereafter  to  be  consid- 
ered: but  in  s{)eaking  of  those  general  habits  upon 
which  the  weal  of  societydepends,  it  is  of  importance 
to  insist  upon  it,  that  those  who  would  avail  them- 
selves of  its  advantages,  should  give  themselves 
the  trouble  to  know  their  own  mind,  and  not  to 
subject  all  who  approach  them  occasionally,  or  are 
connected  with  them  more  intimately,  to  the  un- 
certainty whether  they  are  to  be  received  with  the 
chilling  apathy  of  indifference,  the  lowering  frown 
of  displeasure,  or  the  warm  cordiality  of  friend- 
ship; and  the  still  greater  uncertainty  from  what 
possible  cause  this  mutable  and  capricious  deport- 
ment arises. 

There  is  a  consistency  also  which  society  ex- 
pects from  age  and  station.  That  which  would  be 
levity  in  age,  possesses  a  charm  of  sprightliness 
in  youth.  That  which  would  be  unbecoming  in 
one  station  of  life,  is  natural,  easy,  unconstrain- 
and  amiable  in  another.  From  elders,  referring 
an  well  to  office  as  to  age,  the  apostle  requires 
gravity;  and  let  no  one  attempt  to  justify,  upon 
this  demand,  whatever  be  his  profession,  or  what- 
ever his  time  of  life,  a  morose,  supercilious,  un- 
bending spirit.     Suavity,  cheerfulness,  and  socia- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  137 

bilitv,  are  consistent  with  the  most  solemn  calling, 
and  the  most  advanced  periods  of  life.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  say,  which  is  most  disgusting — old  age  af- 
fecting childliood,  or  childhood  aping  old  age.  If 
childishness  must,  in  some  melancholy  instances, 
be  associated  with  advanced  years,  let  it  be  the 
imbecility  of  the  understanding,  and  not  the  weak- 
ness of  the  heart — let  it  be  apparent  that  the  effects 
deplored  are  the  ravages  of  time,  and  not  the 
choice  of  a  vain,  worldly,  trifling  imagination.  For 
"aged  women"  to  deck  themselves  like  girls, tore- 
tain  affectations  which  were  never  tolerated  by 
good  sense,  but  overlooked  in  the  personal  graces 
with  which  they  were  accompanied,  and  pardoned 
because  of  the  tender  age  in  which  they  were  in- 
dulged— would  move  derision,  if  shame  were  not 
at  hand  to  suppress  it.  For  "aged  men"  in  their 
dotage,  to  imagine  themselves  in  their  boyhood,' 
betrays  them  into  absurdities  as  pernicious  to  so- 
ciety as  odious  to  themselves.  The  counterpart 
of  this,  is  the  affectation  of  experience,  wisdom, 
and  authority,  on  the  part  of  childhood  and  youth. 
Advancing  years,  and  habitual  contact  with  the 
world,  will  teach  suspicion  soon  enough,  far  too 
soon,  for  the  honour  of  human  nature,  and  the 
comfort  of  the  individual — but  to  see  the  youth, 
who  is  little  more  than  a  child,  locking  up  his 
heart,  and  casting  a  doubtful  eye  upon  those  by 
whom  he  is  surrounded,  argues  something  wrong 
within — a  consciousness  of  some  concealed  mo- 
tives on  his  own  part,  which  induce  that  suspicion 
of  others,  the  justice  of  which  experience  cannot 


138  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

have  taught  him,  and  the  existence  of  which  is  so 
hateful  to  the  benevolent  spirit,  the  undisguised 
character,  and  the  frank  emotions  of  unsophisti- 
cated youth,  that  observation  alone  would  not  be 
sufficiently  powerful  to  impress  it  upon  the  gener- 
ous heart. 

There  is  also  a  consistency  of  a  higher  charac- 
ter, giving  perfection  to  all  these  general  habits  so 
necessary  to  society;  it  is  re/ig'ioits consistency,  on 
the  part  of  a  christian,  and  is  marked  by  his  puri- 
ty. He  loses  none  of  his  civil  rights  by  Christiani- 
ty: he  is  not  withdrawn  from  the  social  circle; 
but  he  is  eminently  qualified  to  inform,  improve 
and  ornament  it.  "I  pray  not,"  said  the  depart- 
ing Saviour  in  his  last  prayer — "  that  thou  shouldst 
take  tUein  out  of  the  world,  but  that  thou  shouldst 
keep  them  from  the  evil."  To  walk  through  and 
not  inhale  its  pestilential  atmosphere — to  scatter 
around  him  life  and  healing  as  he  advances — is 
his  glorious  prerogative.  He  is  required  to  "adorn 
the  doctrine  of  God  his  Saviour  in  all  things." 
Purity  is  his  jirinciple — consistency  its  application. 
He  bears  about  with  him  the  natuie  of  man  :  but 
shews  every  where  impressed  upon  it  the  im- 
age of  God. 

PARENTAL  AFFECTION. 

There  are  emotions  too  powerful  to  be  ex- 
pressed ;  too  ethereal  to  be  substantiated  ;  too  spir- 
itual to  be  embodied.  Such  are  the  vivid,  varied, 
attenuated    anxieties  of  parental   tenderness:  yet 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLY  ER.  139 

Solomon's  powerful  genius  arrested  and  perpetu- 
ated tliern  :  and  such  is  his  commanding  eloquence, 
that  they  scarcely  seem  to  lose  any  thing,  by  being 
clothed  in  language  ;  his  expressions  are  the  types 
of  his  aftections  ;  his  appeal  rises  warm  from  his 
heart.  "Hear,  ye  children,  the  instruction  of  a 
father,  and  attend  to  know  understanding.  For  I 
give  you  good  doctrine,  fotsake  you  not  my  law. 
For  I  was  my  father's  son,  tender  and  only  be- 
loved in  the  sight  of  my  mother.  He  taught  me 
also,  and  said  unto  me.  Let  thine  heart  retain  my 
words:  keep  my  commandments,  and  live."  This 
is  not  egotism:  it  is  the  expression  of  powerful 
feeling,  and  manifests  the  heart  to  be  more  deeply 
interested  for  others  than  for  himself  A  man 
may  speak  of  himself,  when  it  is  to  benefit  others ; 
to  give  greater  weight  to  his  counsels;  to  take 
deeper  root  in  the  affections;  and  to  obtain  a 
firmer  hold  upon  them,  for  their  instruction  and 
advantage,  without  being  an  egotist.  Egotism  is 
a  compound  of  selfishness  and  vanity  ;  in  the  above 
text,  there  is  not  a  particle  of  either.  It  is  full  of  pa- 
ternal emotion  :  and,  while  the  father  speaks  of 
himself,  he  is  thinking  of  his  children  ;  he  speaks 
of  himself  only  to  interest  them  more  effectually, 
and  give  force  to  his  instructions  ;  and  never  thinks 
of  himself  less,  than  while  he  is  proposing  to  them 
his  own  example,  and  that  of  his  parents;  to 
whose  memory  a  gush  of  filial  tenderness  breaks 
forth,  ami  commingles  with  his  paternal  anxieties. 
There  is,  in  this  admonition,  I  know  not  what 


140  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

charm  of  recollection.  The  past  comes  again, 
clothed  in  the  bright  radiance  of  hope,  such  as  it 
once  appeared,  before  reality  had  extinguished  its 
light,  and  broken  its  day-dream.  Childhood  re- 
turns with  all  its  intensity  of  ardour,  all  its  sim- 
plicity of  character,  all  its  buoyancy  of  spirits,  all 
its  fearless  confidence,  all  its  lively  gaiety,  all  its 
thoughtless  mirth,  all  its  varied  emotions,  all  its 
warm  affections.  The  vivacity  which  beguiled  the 
parent  of  many  a  smile,  and  drew  forth  also  many 
a  tear — which,  in  placing  before  him  all  he  loved, 
shewed  him  at  the  same  moment  all  he  had  to 
fear — returns  upon  the  father:  he  remembers 
what  he  was  as  a  child,  and  what  his  parents  were 
to  him;  he  remembers  counsels  little  heeded  at 
the  time,  and  too  much  neglected  afterwards  ; 
and,  without  forgetting  that  he  is  himself  a  parent, 
he  places  before  his  own  children  the  wisdom  of 
his  father,  and  the  result  of  his  own  experience. 
It  is  impossible  for  me  to  convey  to  others,  in  any 
adequate  language,  the  emotions  which  this  pas- 
sage, so  full  of  feeling  and  of  gentleness,  awakens 
in  my  bosom.  It  seems  to  me  to  speak,  on  the 
part  of  the  writer,  of  departed  joys,  recalled  by  the 
occasion,  but  not  to  be  retained:  the  flashings  of 
youthful  pleasures,  and  vivacity  upon  old  age,  like 
the  fitful  coruscations  of  the  aurora  borealis  upon 
a  northern  sky  at  midnight — enchanting,  but  mo- 
mentary ;  bright,  but  cold  ;  playing  over  a  scene  of 
darkness  with  partial,  sudden,  transient  illumina- 
tion, to  leave  the  shades  deeper  and  more  dreary 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  141 

than  before.  Such  are  the  recollections  of  child- 
hood and  youth,  with  their  train  of  hopes  disap- 
pointed, promises  blighted,  advantages  neglected, 
and  knowledge  spurned,  until  too  dearly  bought 
by  experience. 


FILIAL  DUTIES. 

Love,  is  the  first  and  grand  spring  of  filial  duty. 
To  suppose  its  absence,  is  to  libel  human  nature. 
The  claims  of  the  mother  are  so  gentle,  and  those 
of  the  father  so  reasonable,  that  hotJi  ought  to  be 
irresistible.  I  have  stated  the  principle,  because 
of  its  importance,  in  giving  character  to  duty — not 
as  requiring  either  explanation  or  defence.  I  send 
the  young  man  home  to  his  mother's  painful  anx- 
ieties on  his  account — to  her  watchings  over  him 
in  sickness — her  caresses  of  his  infancy — her  tears 
— her  fidelity  :  I  send  him  to  his  father's  counsels — 
his  labours — his  sacrifices — his  manly  tenderness: 
these  are  to  act  upon  his  heart;  and  if  there  be  a 
son  or  a  daughter,  upon  whose  heart  these  consid- 
erations will  not  act,  to  produce  correspondent 
love,  I  have  the  misfortune  to  have  found  one  of 
those  whom  the  apostle  places  upon  the  blackest 
catalogue  of  human  crimes,  and  whom  he  des- 
cribes "  as  without  natural  affection." 

Docility  will  be  the  product  of  this  principle. 
The  ingenuous  child  will  defer  to  the  opinion  of 
his  father — will  reverence  his  wisdom,  and  cheer- 
fully yield  to  his  authority — will  acknowledge  that 


142  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

his  matured  understanding  is  fitter  to  guide  his 
course,  than  his  own  twilight  judgment ;  and  will 
give  that  good  and  tender  father  credit,  for  intend- 
ing in  all  his  arrangenrents,  ids  advantage,  and  this 
only.  He  will  yield,  not  only  without  a  struggle, 
but  with  joy,  to  the  instructions  of  that  mother, 
whose  soul  of  love  looks  at  him  through  her  eyes 
and  whose  voice  trembles  with  emotions  of  tender- 
ness, while  she  exhorts  him — "  What,  my  son  ?  and 
what,  the  son  of  my  womb?  and  what,  the  son  of 
my  vows?"  Let  my  young  female  friends  listen — 
Never  choose  a  man  for  your  husband,  who  has 
been  an  undutiful  son.  You  will  have  no  hold  up- 
on him:  believe  me,  he  that  has  shewn  no  filial  af- 
fections, has  no  heart  at  all — do  not  trust  him  with 
your  peace.  He  may  have  a  thousand  personal 
graces,  and  a  thousand  acquired  accomplishments, 
but  this  one  defect  annihilates  the  whole.  And  wo 
to  that  unhappy  young  man,  who  shall  choose  the 
partner  of  his  life  from  amongst  perverse  daughters: 
he  has  taken  to  his  bosom,  a  fire  that  will  consume 
him.  The  best  pledge  of  future  relative  excellen- 
ces must  be  sought  among  the  earliest  indications 
of  filial  duty.  A  good  son,  and  a  good  daughter, 
cannot  make  a  bad  wife,  or  a  profligate  husband. 
The  claims  of  filial  duty  are  absolute  and  indisso- 
luble. The  God  who  made  you  requires  them  at 
your  hands.  "Children,  obey  your  parents  in  the 
Lord,  for  this  is  right.  Honour  thy  father  and  thy 
mother  (which  is  the  first  commandment  with 
promise,)  that  it  may  be  well  with  thee,  and  that 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  143 

ihou  inayest  live  long  on  the  earth."  It  is  re- 
markable that  this  is  the  only  moral  precept  that 
has  a  distinct  promise  attached  to  it,  and  that  of  a 
temporal  and  immediate  nature:  and  surely  shews 
in  what  estimation  in  the  sight  of  God  is  filial 
duty.  On  the  other  hand,  how  dreadful  is  his 
figurative  denunciation — "The  eye  thai  mocketh 
his  father,  and  despiseth  to  obey  his  mother  ;  the 
ravens  of  the  valley  shall  pick  it  out,  and  the  young 
eagles  shall  eat  it."  How  tremendous  is  his  sen- 
tence— "Cursed  be  he  that  setteth  light  by  his 
father  or  his  mother."  How  justly  severe  his  an- 
cient law,  which  decreed  "the  stubborn  and  re- 
bellious son  to  die  by  stoning  under  the  hand  of 
the  men  of  the  city  where  he  dwelt,"  as  a  pest  of 
society  not  to  be  endured. 

How  full  and  ample  are  the  instructions  of  filial 
duty,  both  in  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  !  and 
how  illustrious  are  those  examples  by  which  they 
are  supf)orted. 

The  filial  reverence  of  Isaac,  was  marked  on  an 
occasion  of  all  others  the  most  important — the 
choice  of  a  wife.  And  this  single  instance  of  filial 
piety  speaks  volumes,  both  to  parents  and  children. 
I  will  venture  two  remarks,  upon  which  incal- 
culable interests  are  suspended.  It  is  absolutely 
essential  to  the  duty  of  a  child,  not  to  form  such  a 
connexion  without  consulting  tlie  feelings,  and 
being  guided  by  the  counsels,  of  the  parent.  And, 
oh  I  let  me  impress  upon  the  hearts  of  parents  the 


144  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

counter  duty  of  consulting,  in  all  their  predilec- 
tions, the  hearts  of  their  children.  I  know  of  no 
act  of  tyranny  more  cruel,  than  availing  them- 
selves either  of  the  authority  with  which  the  laws 
of  their  country  arm  them,  or  the  influence  with 
which  nature  invests  them,  to  urge  against  the 
affections  and  the  judgment,  the  formation  of  a 
connexion  which  cannot  be  dissolved,  and  which 
must  necessarily  involve  the  happiness,  or  misery, 
of  an  entire  life. 

The  example  of  Moses — at  the  height  of  his 
power  and  grandeur — in  the  reverence  which  he 
paid  to  Jethro,  who  was  only  his  father  in-law — 
should  teach  filial  duty. 

Solomon  never  appeared  so  great,  as  when  he 
rose  from  his  throne,  and  bowed  himself  before  his 
mother,  Bathsheba — when  she  appeared  as  a  peti- 
tioner, and  he  was  discharging  the  duties  of  a  sov- 
ereign. 

Ruth — gentle,  excellent  Ruth — throws  upon  filial 
duties  the  lustre  of  an  almost  unrivalled  example. 
"Entreat  me  not,"  said  she,  "to  leave  thee,  or  to 
return  from  following  after  thee  ;  for  whither  thou 
goest  I  will  go,  and  where  thou  lodgest  I  will  lodge  : 
thy  people  shall  be  my  people,  and  thy  God  my  God. 
Where  thou  diesti  will  die,  and  there  will  I  be  bur- 
ied. The  Lord  do  so  to  me,  and  more  also,  if  aught 
but  death  part  thee  and  me."  And  she  received  a 
full  recompense  from  "the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  un- 
der the  shadow  of  whose  wings  she  came  to  trust." 

Timothy,  sitting  at  the  feet  of  his  mother  Eunice? 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  145 

and  his  gratKlmotlier  Lois,  and  learning  from  them 
the  truths  of  those  "Scriptures  which  were  ahle  to 
make  him  wise  unto  salvation,  through  faith  that 
is  in  Christ  Jesus,"  must  interest  every  youthful 
lieart. 

But  a  greater  than  allthese,  "Jesus  himself  sub- 
ject to  his  parents,"  put  the  crown  of  glory  upon 
the  head  of  filial  duty. 

These  claims  are  a\so  indissoluble.  Oh!  I  would 
not,  for  the  universe,  carry  in  my  bosom,  for  one 
hour,  the  scor[)ion  stings  which  must  torment  the 
ungrateful  child,  when  he  turns  from  the  grave  of 
his  parent.  But  he,  who  has  carried  his  filial  ob- 
ligations and  tenderness  to  the  last  sad  ofiices,  and 
fixed  to  them  no  limit  but  that  which  death  pre- 
scribes, may  in  that  solemn  moment  lift  his  eyes  to 
heaven,  and  to  the  Parent  who  reigns  there,  and 
say,  "  My  Father,  thou  shalt  be  the  guide  of  my 
youth" — and  he  siiall  be  accepted  1 


SUICIDE. 

No  sophistry  can  justify,  no  eloquence  can  palli- 
ate, no  example  can  consecrate  this  offence  against 
God,  society,  and  ihe  individual  himself.  Insanity, 
indeed,  if  it  be  really  substantiated,  by  depriving 
the  individual  of  a  reasonable  control  over  his  pas- 
sions, absolves  him  from  moral  responsibility.  But 
in  the  face  of  this  offence,  it  is  such  a  palpable  sin 
against  nature  and  providence,  that  charity  induces 
13 


146  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

the  conclusion  of  mental  aberration,  frequently 
upon  very  slender  evidence.  This  reluctance  to 
believe  that  the  act  could  be  done,  except  under 
the  influence  of  a  disordered  judgment,  speaks 
loudly  the  general  conviction  of  mankind  as  to  the 
guilt  of  self-murder.  That  will  admit  of  no  satis- 
factory defence  which  the  common  sense,  and  the 
common  feeling  of  mankind  regard  with  abhor- 
rence ;  and  which  their  compassion  for  the  offend- 
er, condemns  but  the  more  strongly.  Although 
nature  is  depraved,  there  are  certain  great  princi- 
ples remain  not  wholly  obliterated — the  traces  of 
original  rectitude — and  which  are  recognized  in 
all  ages,  and  among  all  nations  :  and  when  these 
are  restored  by  divine  influence,  the  man  becomes 
a  christian.  This  is  called  ^^  ihe  i-eneiving  of  the 
mind."  But  in  their  common  state,  they  revolt 
from  self-murder,  as  an  act  equally  condemned  by 
reason,  conscience,  and  religion.  The  last  is  the 
infallible  guide ;  and  serves  as  a  light  to  the  ope- 
rations of  the  former. 

The  origin  of  suicide  may  be,  therefore,  traced 
almost  uniformly  to  infidelity — either  of  the  heart, 
or  of  the  judgment — or  of  both.  It  is  because 
men  either  persuade  themselves  that  "that  there 
is  no  God" — and  this  conclusion  is  so  great  an  ab- 
surdity, that  even  the  fool  dares  only  to  whisper  it 
"in  his  heart" — or  they  suppose  that  he  takes  no 
cognizance  of  human  events  ;  that  he  is  too  great 
to  be  interested  in  what  is  passing  among  men  ; 
that  be  ha^  abandoned  the  world  which  he  made 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  147 

to  chance;  and  that,  even  if  his  general  providence 
be  admitted,  lie  leaves  unregarded  the  interests  of 
the  indiviikial,  who  rnay,  therefore,  slide  away  un- 
noticed  from   the  aggregate   of  society — or  they 
conclude  that  there  is  no  future  state,  and  that  the 
worst  that  can   happen   befals  them  here;    from 
which   calamity  they  may  deliver  themselves  by 
self-destruction — or  they  judge  of  him,  rather  by 
their  wishes  and  exigencies,  than   by  the  revela- 
tion  of  his  character  which  he  has  made  in  his 
word  ;    and    hope  that  he  will  not  visit  for  these 
things,  and    that  the   extremity    will   excuse    the 
offence — or  they  boldly  set  his  justice,  his  power, 
his  laws,   and  his  authority,  at  defiance  ;    and  as 
they  were  not  parties  to  their  own  being  in  its 
grant,  they  are  not  bound  to  wait  its  close,  or  they 
will  not  obey  his  mandate  to  that  effect: — to  one 
of  these  causes,  all  of  which  s|jring  from  infidelity) 
must  the  crime  of  suicide  be  traced,  whenever  it 
does  not  originate  in  insanity.     The  only  excep- 
tion that  can   be  imagined  is,  a  sudden  frenzy,  in- 
duced by  uncontrollable  circumstances  overpower- 
ing reason  :    but  this,  if  it  unseat  the  reason  only 
for  a  time,  is  insanity  :    if  it  be  a  burst  of  passion, 
to  which  the  reason  yields  without  being  dispos- 
sessed of  her  throne,  whatever  be  the    provoca- 
tion, the  result  is  criminal:    because  the  passions 
ought  to  have  been  so  habitually  guarded,  as  in  no 
case,  so  long  as   the   understanding   remains,   to 
gain   the  supposed  ascendancy-     I  have  said,  that 
the  several  causes  already  assigned,  with  the  ex- 


148  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

ception  of  insanity,  either  constitutional  or  tempo- 
rary, arise  from  infidelity.  For  religion  asserts 
the  being  of  God — and  Nature  establishes  the  po- 
sition. Religion  maintains  the  Divine  sovereignty, 
and  that  the  moral  government  of  God  extends 
over  all  things — and  Providence  confirms  the  fact. 
Religion  reveals  a  future  state  of  rewards  and 
punishments,  involving  man's  responsibility — and 
Conscience  admits,  in  its  hopes,  and  fears,  and 
premonitions,  the  doctrine.  Religion  explains  that 
the  Judge  eternal  is  the  avenger  of  guilt,  and  will 
try  the  offender  by  his  own  rectitude,  and  the 
principles  established  in  the  Scriptures,  and  not 
by  human  caprice  or  infirmity — and  Reason  recog- 
nises a  conclusion  so  consistent.  Religion  asserts 
the  right,  and  the  exclusive  right  of  Deity,  to  dis- 
pose of  man,  and  to  limit  the  life  which  he  has  giv- 
en— and  Justice  agrees  that  a  demand  so  obviously 
arising  out  of  the  relation  between  the  Creator  and 
the  creature,  cannot  be  resisted  without  treason 
against  the  eternal  Majesty.  Suicide,  involving 
the  converse  of  all  these  propositions,  advanced  by 
revelation,  supported  as  they  are  by  nature.  Provi- 
dence, conscience,  reason,  and  justice,  must  origi- 
nate in  infidelity. 

The  justification  also  of  this  act,  attempted  to 
be  drawn  from  the  example  of  eminent  men  in  an- 
tiquity, and  from  the  opinions  of  others,  among  the 
most  distinguished  heathen  philosophers — induces 
the  inference  of  doubt  upon  the  subject,  if  not  of 
suspicion.     That*which  is  plainly  right,  carries  its 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  149 

evidence  in  itself,  and  seeks  no  foreign  justifica- 
tion :  it  leaves  the  principle  to  make  its  own  way, 
and  time  to  demonstrate  its  purity  and  propriety. 
When  we  hegin  to  jiesitate  in  any  point,  it  is  time 
to  abandon  it:  whatever  is  doubtful,  may  be 
criminal  ;  and  we  are  taught  to  "abstain  from  all 
appearance  of  evil."  But  this  is  an  act  more  than 
dubious — conscience  startles  at  it — and  examples 
are  sought,  not  to  try  the  justice  of  the  scruples 
involuntarily  obtruded,  but,  if  possible,  to  remove 
them.  The  examples  gathered  from  antiquity,  are 
far  from  displaying,  in  most  cases,  dignity  of  char- 
acter ;  they  consisted  then,  as  now,  in  a  petulant 
and  imjiatient  quarrel  with  Providence  :  or  in  a 
most  unphilosophical  predominance  of  the  ])as- 
sions  :  or  in  a  proud  and  cold  scepticism,  which 
having  first  chilled  the  charities  of  life  into  apathy, 
left  it  with  contempt.  Devotion  to  patriotism,  or 
to  religion,  however  mistaken  in  some  cases,  must 
be  excepted,  as  emanating  from  a  better  principle  ; 
and  should  be  regarded  as  a  sacrifice  to  duty,  real 
or  supposed  :  which  enters  into  the  question  of 
self-preservation  especially,  and  not  into  the  con- 
demnation of  suicide:  because  although  these  re- 
signed tliemselves  for  an  object  which  they  con- 
sidered as  paramount  to  life,  in  point  of  obligation 
as  well  as  value,  they  did  not  fall  by  their  own 
hand,  but  surrendered  themselves  to  perish — ex- 
cepting in  a  few  instances,  depending  upon  very 
extraordinary  circumstances.  These  too  are 
special  questions,  which  must  be  left  to  the  un- 


150  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

erring  equity  of  the  Judge  Eternal.  The  opinions 
of  the  most  illustrious  men  in  the  heathen  world 
also  differed  widely  upon  this  subject ;  and,  while 
some  atternj)ted  a  feeble  defence  of  it,  (for  the 
greatest  talent  must  be  weak,  when  it  combats 
against  reason  and  conscience,)  others  eloquently 
and  forcibly  delineated  its  folly  and  turpitude.  If 
some  were  found  to  allow,  many  were  forward  to 
condemn,  with  just  abhorrence,  this  infamous  prac- 
tice. Among  these,  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Cicero, 
those  ])rincesoftlie  ancient  philosophers,  were  pre- 
eminent. The  latter  uses  the  remarkable  expres- 
sion, that  "it  is  as  unlawful  for  a  man  to  withdraw 
from  life  without  the  Divine  permission,  as  for  a 
soldier  to  quit  his  post  without  his  general's  orders." 
It  has  been  said,  that  some  eminent  and  good 
men,  in  modern  times,  have  either  attetnpted  or 
perpetrated  this  crime.  I  believe  none  such  can 
be  adduced,  except  such  as  were  evidently  under 
the  decided  influence  of  mental  derangement. 
But  it  has  been  maintained,  that  religion  itself,  or 
at  least  a  certain  class  of  religious  tenets,  has  pro- 
duced a  disorganization  of  intellect,  which  has 
either  terminated  fatally,  or  evinced  a  strong  pro- 
pensity to  self-destruction  :  and  the  name  of  the 
excellent  and  lamented  Cowper  has  been  often 
adduced  as  an  example  to  make  out  this  serious 
charge.  Whoever  has  attended  accurately  and 
faithfully  to  facts,  will  discover,  that  this  great 
man  attempted  suicide,  before  he  felt  the  power, 
or  even  made  any  marked  profession  of  religion  : 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  151 

and  tills  is  most  strikingly  evident  from  the  sketch 
of  his  early  life,  which  he  has  left  hehind  him,  as 
the  prodnction  of  his  own  pen.  No  one  can  read 
this,  his  own  testimony,  without  feeling  satisfied, 
that  in  his  attempts  at  suicide,  he  was  under  the 
powerful  and  immediate  influence  of  that  insanity 
which  it  is  well  known  was  with  him  constitution- 
al;  and  which  rendered  it  necessary  in  one  in- 
stance to  place  him  under  restraint,  and  to  the  last 
hour  of  his  life,  required  that  he  should  be  observ- 
ed with  the  most  unslumbering  vigilance.  Reli- 
gion, or  the  class  of  religious  sentiments  which  he 
adopted,  had  nothing  more  to  do  with  it,  than  ev- 
ery prominent  idea  has  to  do  with  the  mind  of  an 
insane  person.  No  class  of  religious  sentiments 
authorize  suicide:  yet  he  was  perpetually  torment- 
ed with  the  impression  that  he  ought  to  perpetrate 
it.  Every  species  of  madness  fixes  upon  some  one 
great  and  prevailing  point:  and  the  man  is  fre- 
quently rational  on  every  other  subject,  but  as  cer- 
tainly discovers  the  state  of  his  mind  when  you 
touch  that  particular  feeling.  It  is  clear,  also, that 
in  cases  of  insanity,  the  thing  to  which  the  mind 
attaches  the  highest  importance,  will  be  probably 
the  point  of  aberation.  From  Cowper's  first  per- 
manent religious  impressions,  religion  was  the  bus- 
iness of  his  life  ;  the  first,  last,  great,  and  only  con- 
cern. Upon  this  subject,  therefore,  would  the  dis- 
ease most  decidedly  rest,  and  most  distinctly 
disclose  itself.  The  mind  will  also  clothe  the 
disease,  whatever  may  be  the  subject,  in  its  own 


152  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

livery.  The  spirit  of  Cowper  was  gentle,  and  ten- 
der— mild  and  melancholy.  He  had  a  heart  all 
susce{)tibility,  and  fraught  with  the  purest  affec- 
tions— but  an  imagination  overshadowed  with 
gloom.  No  wonder,  independent  of  any  j)arncular 
creed,  which  does  not  here,  at  least,  appear  char- 
geable with  his  malady,  his  religious  impressions 
should  be  the  reflex  of  his  constitutional  tendencies. 
Had  his  mind  been  of  another  order — more  ardent, 
heroic,  and  imaginative,  on  the  same  subject  he 
might — instead  of  shewing  us  a  personal  despair, 
without  the  slightest  foundation  in  the  principles 
which  he  adopted — have  surrounded  us  with  scenes 
of  terror,  judgment,  and  majesty,  beyond  all  ordi- 
nary conception,  as  sublime  as  dreadful  ;  the  effect 
of  the  same  disordered  fancy;  as  unreal,  and  as 
evidently  foreign  from  the  religious  doctrines  be- 
lieved, as  were  the  milder  and  affecting  despon- 
dencies of  Cowper — in  the  same  way  borrowing 
their  features  from  the  spirit  that  conceived  them. 
1  have  entered  further  into  this  instance  than  I 
should  otherwise  have  done,  because  it  is  one 
which  the  enemies  of  certain  religious  sentiments 
delight  to  select,  and  to  exhibit  as  the  victitn  of 
those  sentiments  :  because  other  cases  impartially 
examined,  would  terminate  in  a  similar  result ;  and 
because  the  conclusion  must  be,  in  every  candid 
judgment,  that  suicide,  or  attempts  upon  human 
life,  have  no  countenance  from  any  quarter  that 
deserves  to  be  considered  either  as  wise  or  good — 
except  insanity  be  the  cause. 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  153 

To  return  more  immediately  to  the  subject — tht 
cowardice  of  it  ought  to  make  the  man  blush,  even 
if  he  relinquish  the  principles  of  the  christian.   He 
shrinks  from  a  warfare,  which  others  endure  with 
heroic  fortitude:  he  throws  down  his  arms  and 
quits  the  field,  while  others  make  a  bold  and  suc- 
cessful stand  against  the  enemy.     Is  this  true  no- 
bility of  spirit?     What!  has  the  philosopher  less 
energy,  or  more  petulance,  than  others?    That  he 
has  a  quicker  sensibility  will  not  excuse  him:  for 
it  is  supposed  to  originate  in  the  penetration  and 
rationality  of  a  stronger   mind.     After   sophistry 
has  made  out  the  best  case  for  the  self-murderer, 
he  that  flies  life  is  a  coward :  nor  is  this  the  whole ; 
to  that  personal  shrinking,  which  a  noble  mind 
would  disdain,  is  added  a  shameful  consequence  : 
the  base  retreat  of  the  individual  is  accompanied 
by  wrongs   inflicted  upon  others,   who  are  left  to 
bear  the  burden.     The  father  who  destroys  him- 
self, heaps  the  whole  of  that  calamity,  which  his 
act  confessed  him  unable  to  sustain,  upon  his  wife 
and  family.    Are  women  and  children,  then,  better 
qualified  to  support  suffering  than  the  man  ?  "O 
shame,  where  is  thy  blush  ?"  He  is  a  coward  indeed, 
who  flies  from  an  evil  which  he  entails  upon  his  fam- 
ily, and  his  relations;  those  also  of  the  softer  sex, 
and  more  tender  age  ;  with  the  disgrace  superadded 
of  his  ignominious  retreat  from  life  and  its  duties — 
a  disgrace  which  will  cleave  to  them  in  society,  as 
well  as  haunt  and  afflict  them  in  solitude-     I  can- 
14 


154  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYEK. 

not  lielp  thinking  that  the  suicide  shows  as  little 
feeling  as  courage — as  little  affection  to  his  family 
as  regard  to  his  God:  it  is  a  character  so  dastard- 
ly and  selfish,  that  the  only  surprise  is,  it  could 
ever  find  an  advocate,  or  furnish  an  apology. 

The  treason  of  it  against  the  Divine  sovereignty, 
already  suggested,  appears  in  various  conclusive 
particulars.  The  prerogative  of  God,  to  fix  the 
"  bounds  of  our  habitation,"  and  appoint  our  time, 
is  defied.  The  arrangements  oi  infinite  wisdom, 
and  paternal  goodness,  are  arraigned  and  con- 
demned, by  this  unnatural  act.  The  moral  gov- 
ernment of  Deity  is  disregarded  and  insulted. 
Whatever  can  be  binding  is  broken  :  whatever  is 
decent,  becomes  outraged.  It  is  treason  against  JVa- 
ture,  and  her  most  powerful  law,  self-preservation. 
A  law  which  determines  at  once  the  will  of  the 
Creator,  and  the  duty  of  the  creature — a  law,  the 
universality  of  which  leaves  its  authority  undoubt- 
ed ;  and  the  sanctions  of  which  cannot  be  slighted 
with  injpunity.  The  meanest  insect  possesses  it 
in  common  with  man  :  it  is,  therefore,  no  prejudice 
of  human  education,  but  the  wise  and  absolute  en- 
actment of  the  Author  of  our  being.  Tl:e  most 
insignificant  aujong  the  ani(nate  creation,  are  fruit- 
ful in  expedients  to  preserve  that  life,  without  im- 
mortality suspended  upon  it,  which  the  suicide 
dares  to  destroy,  at  the  stake  of  his  eternal  exist- 
ence. It  is  treason  against  the  social  compact.  So- 
ciety has  claims  upon  the  individual,  from  which 
he  cannot  be  fairly  absolved,  without  their  con- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  153 

sent:  except  by  the  dis[)ensations  of  Him,  who  hav- 
ing fonneJ  the  bonds  at  the  beginning,  has  alone 
a  right  to  loose  them  at  his  pleasure.  The  suicide 
extinguishes  with  his  life,  not  only  the  affections 
due  to  his  family,  but  the  duties  which  he  owes  to 
his  country,  and  his  obligations  to  mankind  at 
large.  It  is  treason  against  the  revealed  will  of  God. 
His  express  command  is,  "Thou  shalt  do  no  nmr- 
der,"  and  it  bears  no  less  upon  the  individual,  than 
upon  society :  he  is  no  less  guilty,  who  lifts  his  hand 
against  himself,  than  he  who  assassinates  his  neigh- 
bor. He  is  God's  property,  not  his  own — and  God's 
law  is  absolute.  In  the  spirit  of  this  law,  St.  Paul 
arrested  the  arm  of  the  Philippian  jailer,  when  he 
had  planted  his  sword  at  his  heart,  and  said,  "Do 
thyself  no  harm."  Under  its  influence.  Job  de- 
clared, "  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I 
wait,  until  my  change  come."  And,  in  conformity 
with  it,  are  all  the  precepts  of  patience,  resignation 
and  submission — all  the  doctrines  relative  to  the 
Divine  sovereignty,  providence,  and  paternity,  with 
their  respective  rights — and  all  the  examples  of  un- 
complaining suffering  and  heroic  fortitude,  placed 
before  us  in  the  Scriptures. 

We  cannot,  therefore,  any  Jonger  doubt  the  guilt 
of  the  act,  or  the  misery  which  it  produces — a  mis- 
ery the  more  certain,  inasmuch  as  the  offence  af- 
fords no  space  for  repentance  or  prayer — therefore 
no  hope  of  pardon.  It  is  often  instantaneous; 
and,  in  the  moment  of  the  commission  of  the  crime, 


156  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

the  spirit  appears  before  the  judgment-seat,  to  an- 
swer for  it.  Far  be  it  from  me,  to  limit  the  Divine 
mercy  :  or  to  say,  after  the  act,  if  a  few  lingering 
hours,  or  even  moments,  are  granted,  what  con- 
trition may  be  wrought  in  the  soul,  or  what  com- 
passion may  be  exercised  by  the  Deity.  But  in 
the  sudden  departure,  even  this  slender  hope  is 
cut  off:  for  he  has  said  that  the  state  in  which  a 
man  actually  dies,  is  unalterable:  "the  unjust 
must  be  unjust  still ;  and  the  filthy,  filthy  still ;"  and 
if  the  man  die  in  the  act  of  rebellion,  is  it  possible 
that  he  should  be  treated  upon  any  other  principle 
than  that  of  a  rebel? 


SINS  OF  THE  TONGUE. 

The  most  degrading  and  ofifensive  vice  of  the 
tongue  IS  profanity.  It  is  absolutely  without  apol- 
ogy, and  it  is  inseparable  from  infamy.  The  high- 
est rank  cannot  palliate,  the  lowest  cannot  excuse 
it.  It  prevails,  alas!  among  all  ranks,  and  to  a 
degree  among  both  sexes,  I  am  not  now  speaking 
of  that  contempt  and  defiance  which  the  tongue  of 
the  infidel  sometimes  pours  forth  against  the  Foun- 
tain of  his  being,  and  the  prescriptions  of  his 
word;  but  of  that  most  horrible  habit  of  swearing, 
or  taking  the  name  of  God  in  vain,  which  affords 
neither  pleasure  nor  profit,  while  it  violates  what- 
ever is  sacred,  and  tramples  under  foot  a  positive 
command — "Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the 
Lord  thy  God  in  vain ;  for  the  Lord  will  not  hold 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  157 

him  guiltles3.that  taketh  his  name  in  vain."  That 
the  liigher  classes  in  society  should  indulge  in  this 
degrading  vice  is  most  astonishing.  The  great  line 
of  distinction  between  them  and  the  lower  classes, 
is  proprietyof  language  :  this  marks,  more  strongly 
than  any  other  circumstance,  superioiity  of  educa- 
tion, culture  of  mind,  and  select  associations.  This 
distinction  they  voluntarily  abandon,  and  descend 
to  the  vulgar  dialect,  and  dreadful  oaths  of  the  un- 
instructed  and  the  low,  for  no  possible  gratification. 
And  even  the  softer  sex,  who  would  shrink  from 
the  broad  and  profane  oath,  are  nevertheless  ha- 
bitually guilty,  especially  among  the  higher  ranks, 
and  but  too  universally,  of  using  the  name  of 
their  Maker  with  levity,  upon  every  frivolous  oc- 
casion. "  Shall  I  not  visit  for  these  things,  saith 
the  Lord?"  Are  we  to  suppose  that  he  has  given 
a  commandment  without  sanctions?  or  that  he 
will  pass  over  the  breach  of  it?  He  has  said,  "  for 
swearing  shall  the  land  mourn" — and  will  he  not 
effect  his  declaration  ?  "  Heaven  and  earth  shall 
pass  away,  but  his  word  shall  not  pass  away." 
How  frequently  has  he  cut  off  the  profane  in  the 
midst  of  their  sin!  and  what  other  dreadful  in- 
stances of  wrath  do  we  wait  for,  before  our  boys 
and  our  females,  our  rulers,  and  our  popula- 
tion, will  learn  to  lay  aside  this  shocking,  this  dis- 
gusting, this  impious  practice,  and  listen  to  the 
warning  voice,  "  Swear  not  at  all?" 

Impurity  of  speech,  emphatically  called  in  the 
word  of  God  "  corrupt  communication,"  and  "  fil- 


158  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER 

tliiness,"  is  absolutely  to  be  laid  aside,  as  it  is  most 
decidedly  sentenced  and  forbidden.  "For  this 
know,  that  no  unclean  person  hath  any  inheritance 
in  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  of  Christ.  Let  no  man 
deceive  you  with  vain  words;  for  because  of  these 
things  Cometh  the  wrath  of  God  upon  the  children 
of  disobedience.  Be  not  ye,  therefore,  partakers 
with  them."  Such  is  the  precept — and  a  little  at- 
tention to  the  context  will  satisfy  any  inquirer* 
that  the  allusion  is  partly  to  sensual  conduct,  but 
directly  to  impurity  of  language,  as  leading  to  it 
by  inflaming  the  passions,  and  as  most  odious  in  it- 
self. The  image  is  exceedingly  forcible,  and  rep- 
resents it  as  a  moral  putrefaction,  tainting  the  lips 
over  which  it  passes.  That  must  be  a  bad  taste 
which  can  relish,  as  well  as  an  unclean  heart  which 
conceives  it.  It  is  a  miserable  substitute  for  sense 
and  wit;  and  a  powerful  engine  of  depravity.  It 
is  a  leprosy  of  the  spirit  which  shews  itself  on  the 
tongue.  The  holy  Being,  who  is  of  purer  eyes  than 
to  look  upon  iniquity,  turns  from  it  with  abhorrence  ; 
and  charges  all  who  profess  and  call  themselves 
christians — "  Let  no  corrupt  couimunication  pro- 
ceed out  of  your  mouth." 

Falsehood  is  an  abuse  of  the  tongue  which  has 
called  forth  the  most  tremendous  denunciations* 
God's  own  title  is,  "  The  Lord  God  of  Truth  ;" 
opposed  to  which  is  the  ap[)ellation  of  that  evil 
spirit,  the  enemy  of  God,  of  man,  and  of  goodness, 
who  is  termed,  "the  father  of  lies."     "Lying  lips 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  159 

are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord."  "  A  lying  tongue 
is  but  for  a  moment."  "What  shall  be  given  unto 
thee,  or  what  shall  be  done  unto  thee,  thou  false 
tongue  ?"  "  All  liars  shall  have  their  part  in  the 
lake  which  burneth  with  fire  and  brimstone  ;  which 
is  the  second  death."  This  is  a  vice,  therefore, 
most  abhorrent  to  the  nature  of  Deity  ;  and  which 
shall  be  assuredly  visited  with  his  severest  indig- 
nation. Nor  can  we  be  astonished  at  this,  when 
we  turn  from  the  consideration  of  the  divine  char- 
acter to  contemplate  its  action  upon  society:  the 
very  foundations  of  which  are  removed  in  the  de- 
struction of  individual  confidence.  Speech  is  so 
far  from  being  a  blessing,  that  in  this  case  it  scat- 
ters wide  and  unsparingly  the  seeds  of  suspicion, 
alienation,  and  ruin.  Every  species  of  insincerity, 
practised  by  ourselves,  or  encouraged  in  others, 
falls  under  the  censure:  for  they  are  numbered 
among  the  enemies  of  God  and  of  all  goodness, 
who/' flatter  with  their  tongue." 

Slander  is  a  vice  of  the  tongue  of  the  most  per- 
nicious quality.  Next  to  inventing  falsehood  of 
another,  is  the  crime  of  admitting  it  without  scru- 
ple, and  giving  it  circulation.  Some  persons  seem 
to  live  for  no  other  {)urpose  than  either  "  to  tell  or 
to  hear  some  new  thing  :"  but,  from  a  moral  obliq- 
uity, they  can  see  nothing  amiable  in  another,  hear 
nothing  favorable,  and  tell  nothing  honourable. 
They  visit,  conv^erse,  I  had  almost  said,  worship, 
for  no  other  end  :  and  the  very  sanctuary  becomes 


160  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

sometimes,  and  with  some  professors,  the  mart 
where  reputations  are  bartered,  and  the  altar  on 
which  character  is  sacrificed  by  looks,  by  whispers, 
by  insinuations.  An  adjournment  from  the  pew 
to  the  tea-table  removes  all  restraint  from  the 
tongue,  and  gives  all  scope  to  the  rancorous  prin- 
ciple. Those  also  w^ho  will  not  lie,  will  defame.  If 
they  shrink  from  calumny,  they  have  skill  at  detrac- 
tion :  and  effect  as  much  in  depreciation  of  char- 
acter, as  others  in  a  more  direct  attack  upon  it. 
Such  employment  of  the  tongue  is  odious  in  all  men 
— most  inexcusable  in  professors — but  detestable 
beyond  all  reach  of  censure  in  ministers.  The  wick- 
ed, whom  God  repels  from  his  altar,  are  charged 
with  this  gross  offence.  "Thou  givest  thy  moulh 
to  evil,  and  thy  tongue  frameth  deceit.  Thou  sittest 
and  speakest  against  thy  brother — thou  slanderest 
thine  own  mother's  son." 

Allied  with  this  is  the  spirit  of  intermeddling  with 
the  affairs  of  others,  and  the  never-resting  and  poi- 
sonous tongue  of  the  tale-hearer,  "Withal  they 
learn  to  be  idle,  wandering  about  from  house  to 
house  ;  and  not  only  idle,  but  tattlers  also,  and  busy- 
bodies,  speaking  things  which  they  ought  not." 
It  is  astonishing  the  mischief  that  one  such  person 
will  do  in  a  family,  a  church,  a  neighbourhood  ;  and 
if  he  be   a  political  meddler,  in  a  country. 

Provocation  and  violence  are  among  the  offences 
of  ihe  tongue.  Oh,  what  fatal  effects  might  iiave 
been   avoided,  in  many  a  desolated  family,  if  its 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  161 

inmates  had  respectively  learned  the  great  lesson 
taught  by  the  wise  man—"  A  soft  answer  turneth 
away  wrath."  The  husband  might  have  won  his 
wife,  the  wife  retained  her  husband;  the  master 
might  have  governed  and  reformed  his  servant, 
and  the  servant  have  learned  to  reverence  his  mas- 
ter; the  child  would  not  have  been  provoked  to  an- 
ger, and  would  havo  repaid  in  the  homage  of  affec- 
tion, more  filial  reverence  than  could  be  command- 
ed by  fear,  and  extorted  by  force.  But  the  licentious- 
ness of  the  tongue  causes  a  breach  that  cannot  be 
closed  ;  and  its  tauntings  on  every  side  inflict  a 
wound  that  cannot  be  healed.  Like  the  barbed  ar- 
row, it  breaks  when  it  is  solicited,  and  can  never 
be  extracted. 

Levity  appears  a  venial  offence,  but  it  may  have 
a  disastrous  issue.  Trifles  in  themselves  become 
of  serious  consequence  in  their  results.  Light- 
ness of  speech  has  sometimes  terminated  fatally. 
An  unguarded  expression  has  led  to  murder:  a 
sarcasm  has  implanted  in  the  offended  bosom  im- 
placable hatred:  and  general  levity  of  speech  both 
indicates  a  trifling  spirit,  and  induces  pernicious 
effects  upon  the  moral  feeling.  It  is  worthy  re- 
mark, in  what  a  dark  association  the  apostle  places 
habitual  jesting.  "Fornication  and  all  unclean- 
ness,  or  covetousness,  let  it  not  once  be  named 
among  you,  asbecometh  saints.  Neither  filthiness*' 
— impure  conversation — "nor  foolish  talking,  nor 
jesting,  which  are  not  convenient."     He  that  ac- 


362  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

customs  himself  to  habitual  levity  of  speech,  en- 
courages a  licentiousness  of  spirit,  which  will  ren- 
der him  familiar  with  evil:  and  may,  by  degrees, 
initiate  him  into  the  darkest  mysteries  of  practical 
impurity. 


GOD'S  LAW  THE  ONLY  TRUE  STANDARD  OF 
MORALS. 

Moralshaxe  been  a  subject  of  anxious  inquiry  in 
all  ages.  They  include  the  duties  which  wo  owe 
to  God,  to  ourselves,  and  to  each  other,  arising  out 
of  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  our  mutual  rela- 
tions, and  the  intellectual  energies  of  our  being.  I 
have,  therefore,  unhesitatingly  called  them  Duties 
— and  because  our  object  is  to  inquire  after  the 
moral  obligations  enforced  in  the  Bible — they  are 
distinguished  as  Scripture  Duties.  This  isnow^ 
distinctly  stated  to  escape  the  necessity  of  future 
remark —  and  to  point  out  clearly,  the  track  which 
is  to  be  followed. 

The  ancients  distributed  morals  into  three  clas- 
ses:  as  affecting  the  individual — family-relations 
— and  jurisprudence.  The  first  they  denominated 
Ethics — the  second.  Economics— the  third.  Politics. 
The  term,  Ethics,  was  also  a  general  term ;  be- 
cause the  individual  cannot  stand  alone — he  must 
be  necessarily  connected  with  society,  from  its 
centre  to  its  circumference  :  he  is  himself  the  cen^ 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  163 

tre,  to  himself,  and  as  it  regards  iiis  personal  ob- 
ligations, of  the  entire  circle;  and  that  which  af- 
fected himself  more  immediately,  became,  there- 
fore, generally  applied  to  the  whole. 

The  term.  Ethics,  signifying  manners,  or  the  per- 
sonal deportment  of  the  individual,  especially  to- 
wards others,  insinuated  the  influence  of  the  inter- 
nal moral  principle  upon  the  habits  and  conduct 
of  its  possessor.  The  relation  of  man  to  his  Crea- 
tor being  demonstrated  by  the  very  evidence 
which  led  him  to  the  conclusion  that  there  is  a 
God,  and  obviously  inseparable  from  this  earliest 
concession  of  the  human  mind  to  the  existence  of 
a  First  Cause — and  his  connexion  with  his  fellow 
men  being  as  clearly  manifested  in  the  organiza- 
tion of  society,  and  the  state  of  constant  depen- 
dence upon  others,  of  which  he  cannot  but  be  con- 
scious, from  his  inflincy  to  his  last  breath— an  in- 
quiry after  his  corresponding  duties,  became  one 
of  the  most-important  subjects  which  could  occu- 
py his  attention.  He  gathered  his  impressions 
relative  to  his  moral  obligations,  as  well  as  he 
could,  from  the  scattered  intimations  of  their  char- 
acter around  him,  and  within  him.  He  deduced 
them  from  the  harmonies  of  the  visible  creation — 
the  varied  forms  of  society— the  constitution  of 
his  own  nature — the  testimony  of  his  conscience — 
and,  still  more  largely,  from  traditions  every 
where  prevailing,  although  none  could  trace  them 
to  their  origin— and  making  their  way  by  their 
adaptation  to   society,  their   appeals   to  the  judg- 


164  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

ment  of  the  individual,  and  their  agreement  with 
the  universal  system  of  being- 

We  find,  therefore,  the  wisest  of  men,  in  the 
earliest  ages  of  the  history  of  philosophy,  through- 
out the  heathen  world,  diligently  occupied  in  col- 
lecting these  moral  principles,  and  in  enforcing 
their  obligation  upon  others.  At  first,  their  in- 
structions were  scattered  and  proverbial.  A  sin- 
gle moral  sentiment  was  conveyed,  in  a  senten- 
tious style,  as  distinguished  for  its  point  as  for  its 
brevity,  that  it  might  be  alike  felt  and  remember- 
ed. Then  followed  another  detached  maxim — 
important  in  itself— but  having  no  connexion  with 
that  which  preceded.  After  a  time  it  was  found 
necessary  to  combine  these,  that  they  might  gath- 
er strength  from  association  ;  and  to  enter  more 
into  the  detail  of  their  nature  and  their  reasons, 
that  the  hidden  wisdom  of  the  sage  might  be  ex- 
hibited in  a  form  accessible  to  public  apprehension. 
To  render  the  principle  still  more  attractive,  it 
was  presented  in  the  most  popular  shape  in  which 
it  could  be  clothed — the  appeal  was  made  to  the 
eye  as  well  as  to  the  ear — to  the  external  forms  of 
material  being,  as  well  as  to  the  intellectual  facul- 
ties of  the  mind — to  the  familiar  observations  of 
common  life,  as  well  as  to  the  power  of  thought — 
to  the  imagination,  as  well  as  to  the  understand- 
ing. Circumstances  were  invented  to  show  the 
true  character  of  such  as  existed — and  the  visible 
creation  furnished  illustrations  of  abstract  princi- 
ples suggested  to  the  mind  :   moral  truths  were 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLY  ER.  165 

thus  conveyed  to  the  heart,  through  the  medium 
of  parables. 

The  maxims  of  the  seven  celebrated  Grecian 
sages  furnish  an  example  of  the  proverbial  mode  of 
moral  instruction,  and  the  method  adopted  by 
Pythagoras  elucidates  the  parabolic. 

In  the  meanwhile  genius  and  philosophy  ad- 
vanced— assumed  a  systematic  shape — were  every 
day  making  new  discoveries,  and  diligently  laying 
down  fixed  laws  to  regulate  and  facilitate  their  ar- 
dent inquiries:  but  the  greatest  of  men  were  con- 
tented to  distribute  general  maxims  of  moral  obli- 
gation, in  loose  and  unconnected  forms,  until  that 
luminary  arose  in  Greece,  before  whom  all  con- 
temporary lights  "  hid  their  diminished  heads." 
Socrates  considered  morals  as  at  once  the  fountain 
and  the  end  of  true  philosophy.  To  the  cultivation 
of  these  he  directed  exclusively  all  his  mighty  pow- 
ers. He  collected  whatever  others  had  suggested, 
and  supplied  from  the  treasures  of  his  own  genius 
what  appeared  defective.  To  find  out  the  spring 
of  moral  duty — to  apply  its  principles  to  all  the  re- 
lations of  life,  and  to  enforce  its  obligations,  en- 
gaged all  his  attention.  The  first  he  did  not  fail 
to  trace  to  the  Deity— the  latter  he  delineated  with 
the  powerful  hand  of  a  master :  but  when  he  con- 
templated his  own  grand  outline,  he  discovered 
how  much  remained  to  fill  it  up,  which  surpassed 
even  his  matchless  powers — and  confessed  the  ne- 
cessity of  that,  for  which  we  this  day  contend — a 
revealed  Standard  of  Morals, 


166  J3EAUT1ES  OF  COLLYER. 

After  the  vices  and  superstitions  of  the  age  in 
which  he  lived  had  hurried  this  great  man  out  of 
the  world,  his  labours  did  not  die  with  him.  He 
wrote  notliing;  but  his  disciples,  Plato  and  Xeno- 
phon,  recorded  the  vi'ords  which  fell  from  his  lips 
— and  with  great  fidelity  preserved  to  posterity  his 
principles,  while  they  often  decorated  his  simple 
language  with  their  own  eloquence.  Morals  now 
began  to  be  regarded  as  a  system ;  and  became, 
what  Socrates  had  feared^  and  cautioned  his  fol- 
lowers against,  but  too  much  matters  of  mere  spec- 
ulation. Lost  in  the  mazes  of  metaphysical  disqui- 
sitions, men  were  more  anxious  to  exhibit  and  de- 
fend the  subtilties  of  their  own  definitions  and  dis- 
tinctions, than  to  chalk  out  a  plain  path  for  plain 
men  ;  and  to  argue  upon  the  origin  of  moral  prin- 
ciples, than  to  enforce  their  eternal  obligation. 

The  writers  upon  this  important  subject  multi- 
plied— and  each  allowing  the  existence  of  moral 
principle,  accounted  in  various  ways  for  its  origin, 
applying  to  it  standards  no  less  diversified.  Some 
founded  it  upon  sympathy — the  harmony  of  mind 
with  mind,  and  of  circumstances  with  circumstan- 
ces. Some  upon  symmetry — the  adjustment  of  the 
parts  to  the  whole — suggesting  what  is  beautiful, 
fit,  and  proper.  Some  upon  utility — measuring  the 
moral  quality  by  that  which  was  best  suited  to  so- 
ciety— and  resolving  the  question  finally  into  the 
dangerous  principle  oi'  expediency.  Others  referr- 
ed to  a  moral  sense — out  of  which  some  of  the  for- 
mer speculations  arose.    Others  traced  the  origin 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  167 

of  morals  in  re/a^ion— appealed  for  their  regulation 
and  evidence  to  conscience— or  vathcv  consciousness 
— conscience  being  not  a  separate  faculty  of  the 
mind,  nor  an  additional  sense— but  a  law  incident 
to  all  the  faculties,  and  impressed  by  the  wisdom 
that  fornied  us,  upon  our  entire  moral  constitution. 
These  adduced  i\\m\\y  responsibility  to  enforce  the 
observance  of  moral  duties,  which  they  traced 
from  the  Deity,  as  their  author,  again  to  the  Deity, 
as  their  end.  From  our  relation  to  him  arose  the 
obligation— and  to  him  must  be  the  responsibility  of 
a  relation,  which,  once  admitted,  can  never  be  dis- 
solved. And  thus,  after  wandering  over  the  spec- 
ulations of  the  human  mind,  relative  to  the  origin 
of  duties  which  cannot  be  denied — we  rest  at  last 
upon  the  will  of  God  as  the  basis  of  all  true  morality, 
and  the  grand  rule  of  all  moral  duty. 

All  other  imagined  bases  are  defective.  Neither 
reason,  nor  conscience,  could  trace  distinctly  the 
princi|.'le,  or  guide  unerringly  its  application.  Even 
the  voice  of  nature  has  ceased  to  be  heard  amidst 
the  clamours  of  superstition — and  her  instinctive 
affections  have  been  sacrificed  to  her  fears.  "  She 
has  given  her  first-born  for  her  transgression,  the 
fruit  of  her  body  for  the  sin  of  her  soul."  Custom 
has  extinguished  her  tenderness;  and  with  re- 
morseless cruelty  she  has  been  known  to  expose 
the  new-born  infant  to  death,  or  to  become  her- 
self its  murderer-  Conscience  has  yielded  to  hab- 
it and  to  interest.  It  is  capable  of  cultivation  :  it  is 
also  capable  of  becoming  demoralized.     It  may  be 


168  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

rendered  callous — it  may  be  silenced — it  may  be 
perverted — it  may  be  darkened,  as  well  as  defiled. 
And  in  vain  shall  we  then  watch  for  the  impulses 
of  sympathy,  or  hope  to  perceive  moral  symmetry  : 
— the  beauty  of  virtue  will  not  attract — the  deform- 
ity of  vice  will  not  terrify — we  dare  not  trust  the 
actions  of  such  a  man  to  the  influence  of  the  har- 
monies of  society — or  confide  to  him  the  decision 
of  what  is  generally  useful.     He  will  sacrifice  all 
utility  to  expediency,  and  find  it  expedient  to   se- 
cure his  own  interest,  or  that  which  he  considers 
such,  at  the  expense  of  the  interests  of  others  ;  his 
heart  will  grow  cold,  selfish,  and  contracted,  and 
morals   will  be  dried  up  in  their  bosom-spring. 
Dr.  Paley,  who  so  unhappily,  at  least  in  my  judg- 
ment, introduced  the  dangerous  doctrine  of  expe- 
diency,  into  his  masterly  system  of  Moral  Philos- 
ophy, finds  at  last  no  rest  for  the   sole  of  his  foot, 
but  in  the  will  of  God,  and  reposes  safely  his  moral 
system  there. 


PROFHECSr. 

THE  BIBLE,  A  CLASSIC; 

Imagine  to  ^rourselves  a  number  of  men  with 
minds  divested  of  prejudice,  opening  the  sacred 
volume,  to  read  it  with  care  and  with  attention. 
Such  is  its  variety,  and  such  its  beauty,  that  it  will 
interest  each  of  them  in  his  own  peculiar  way : 
but  to  some  it  will  appear  infinitely  more  impor_ 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLTER.  169 

tant  than  to  others.     The  Scholar  will  find  in  it 
some  of  the   #iiost  sublime  specimens  of  eastern 
composition.     The    Antiquarian  will  prize  pre- 
cious fragments,    snatched   from   the   destroying 
liand  of  time,  rescued  from  barbarous  pillage,  sur- 
viving the  ruins  of  empires,  and  transmitted  to  the 
present  age,  while  a  thousand  other  works  of  later 
date  have  been  consigned  to  oblivion.     Tiie  Poet 
will  meet  here  bold  and  striking  images,  vivid  and 
impressive  figures  of  speech,  lofty  and  magnificent 
descriptions,  which  he  may  look  for  in  vain  among 
the  first  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  classics.     Here 
the   Speculatist  may  discern  the  most   curious 
and  sublime  truths  brought  down  to  the  standard 
of  the  plainest  understanding  ;  a  system  elevated 
beyond  the   utmost  stretch  of  human  comprehen- 
sion, finding  its  way  to  the  human  heart:  myste- 
rious anfl  unsearchable  points  rendered  familiar 
and  intelligible  :  a  wide  and  inviting  field  opened 
for  the  exertion  of  every  mental   faculty.     The 
MAN  OF  taste  anh  OF  FEELING,  will  be  gratified  by 
the  exhibition  which  is  made  of  manly  eloquence, 
of  exquisite  sensibility,  of  unaffected  sentiment,  of 
true   refinement.     The  Lover    of    History  will 
discover  authentic  records  of  the  most  remote  and 
the  most  interesting  events,  written  with  a  noble 
simplicity,  and  possessing  the  utmost  perspicuity. 
Departed  generations  are  recalled  and  return,  with 
their  manners  and  customs.     The  hves  and  char- 
acters of  the  great  and  the  good  are  drawn  with 
fidelity  and  with  impartiality.     Sometimes  he  will 
15 


170  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

be  presented  with  the  biography  of  individuals.  He 
will  see  a  great  mind  encounteriiij^-  a  variety  of 
circumstances,  struggling  with  adversity,  or  with- 
standing the  more  dangerous  insinuations  of  pros- 
perity. In  every  scene  he  will  be  able  to  pierce 
his  very  bosom  ;  and  in  life  or  in  death,  the  reces- 
ses of  his  heart  are  alike  laid  open.  Every  sphere 
of  human  life  is  accessible ;  and  the  Prince,  the 
Lawgiver,  and  the  Shepherd,  present  themselves 
in  their  turn.  Sometimes  he  will  be  surrounded 
by  dojjies lie  scenes ',  and  will  sit  down  in  the  bosom 
of  a  family.  He  will  witness  their  divisions  and 
their  reconciliations,  their  failings,  and  their  excel- 
lencies, their  joys  and  their  sufferings — in  a  word, 
he  will  become  one  of  them.  Sometimes  the  con- 
cerns of  a  nation  will  burst  upon  his  imagination. 
He  will  be  made  acquainted  with  the  sources  of 
dominion,  the  windings  of  power,  and  the  hidden 
springs  of  national  decay.  Thus  also  the  States- 
man wdl  be  interested.  He  may  learn  many  a 
lesson  of  wisdom,  and  draw  many  a  wholesome 
truth,  from  these  pages.  The  best  and  wisest  leg- 
islators have  made  the  code  of  laws  relating  both 
to  government  and  morality,  contained  in  this  vol- 
ume, the  standard  by  which  their  own  constitution 
has  been  framed:  nor  have  they  deviated  from 
this  model  without  manifest  disadvantage  ;  ex- 
cept indeed  when  the  unavoidable  changes  of  cus- 
toms and  of  manners,  and  the  dissimilarity  of 
countries  and  of  climes,  have  required  alterations. 
To  the  Philosopher  the  secret  springs  of  the 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  171 

human  heart  will  be  laid  open.  An  acquaintance 
with  men  and  things,  beyond  the  sphere  of  human 
investigation,  is  displayed  here.  The  movements 
of  the  mind,  the  influence  of  the  passions,  every 
rude  and  every  tender  emotion,  is  uncovered  be- 
fore him  and  submitted  to  his  penetration.    Those 

THAT    ADMIRE    THE    MARVELLOUS    may    alsO    haVC 

their  taste  gratified,  and  that  not  at  the  expense 
of  truth.  Unparalleled  wonders  are  narrated.  They 
bear  no  marks  of  fiction  :  but  they    carry  irresis- 
tible features  of  veracity.     They  are  related  with 
simplicity  ;  and  are  confirmed  abundantly  by  in- 
ternal, and  by  external  evidences.     We  are  pro- 
ducing in  their  order  some  of  the  singular  events 
which  abound  here.     There  are  both  miracles  and 
prophecies:  and,  to  impress  the  heart  the   more, 
the  reader  is  /n*M5e(/*interested  in  them.     But  what 
are  the  emotions  with  which  the  different  charac- 
ters, whom  we  have  enumerated,  will  consult  this 
volume,  to  the  feelings  with  which  the  Christ- 
lAX  will  read  it?       Their  taste  is  gratified  ;  but  his 
wants  are  supplied.     Their   imagination   is  fired, 
and  their  judgment  is  informed  ;  but   his   heart  ie 
warmed,   and  his  mind  is  relieved.     To  them  the 
throne  of  God  may  be  a  seat  of  terror  ;  to  him  it 
is  a  throne  of  grace.     A  mind  at  ease  seeks  enter- 
tainment ;  a  wounded  spirit  pants  for  repose.  The 
one  may  consult  this  volume  from  curiosity,  or,  at 
best,  for  instruction  ;  the  other  will  read  it  for  his 
life — his  present   ])eace,  and  his  future  happiness, 
alike  depend  upon  what  he  finds  here.     It  is  with 


172  BEAUTIES   OF  COLLYER. 

the  feelings,  the  views,  and  the  advantage  of  this 
last  character,  that  we  earnestly  desire  you  should 
examine  the  Scriptures. 


CLOSE  OF  LIFE. 

The  closing  scenes  of  every  man's  life  are  aw- 
ful and  impressive.  When  we  stand  by  the  side 
of  a  dying  bed,  lessons  which  are  feebly  conceived, 
and  wholly  disregarded  at  another  time,  are  taught 
to  perfection,  and  force  their  way  to  the  heart  in 
defiance  of  human  levity.  Here  we  see  the  man 
resigning  the  several  perfections  which  once  ela- 
ted him  with  pride,  and  laying  down  his  boasted 
excellencies.  Here  the  strong  man  is  deprived  of 
his  strength,  and  the  rich  man  is  stripped  of  his 
riches.  This  is  the  end  of  all  flesh.  The  attain- 
ments of  the  scholar,  and  the  wisdom  of  the  wise, 
cease  with  the  breath  departing  from  the  nos- 
trils. The  career  of  glory  terminates  in  the  vale 
of  mortality:  its  lustre  is  extinguished  in  the  shad- 
ow of  death  :  and  the  hero  yields  to  a  stronger  arm 
than  his  own.  Here  the  dreams  of  a  youthful  im- 
agination are  broken,  and  the  delusive  enchant- 
ments of  life  vanish.  Here  the  great  and  the  gay 
discover  how  worthless,  and  how  inconsiderable  is 
the  sum  total  ofearthly  good  :  and  a  true  estimate 
of  the  present  transitory  existence  is  given.  "  It  is 
better  to  go  into  the  house  of  mourning,  than  to  go 
into   the   house   of  feasting :"     because   the  one 


BEAUTIES  OF  CX)LLYER.  173 

strengthens  the  deceptions  of  time,  and  the  other 
dissolves  them.  Let  your  hearts  he  serious  this 
night :  for  that  most  interesting  and  useful  of  all 
scenes  is  painted  before  you  in  solemn  colours — 
the  close  of  a  great  and  useful  life. 

There  is  a  mournful  gratification  in  the  melan- 
choly duty  of  following  our  departed  friends  to 
their  last  earthly  retreat — the  grave.  It  is  in  obe- 
dience to  the  voice  of  nature  issuing  from  their 
very  sepulchres,  to  which  also  our  own  hearts  are 
responsive,  that  we  go  and  see  where  they  have 
laid  them.  Fashion  has  suppressed  these  strong 
emotions,  and  countermanded  at  once  the  impulse 
of  nature,  the  voice  of  religion,  and  the  custom 
of  thousands  of  successive  generations.  When 
Abrahatn  was  to  be  laid  in  the  grave,  the  office  de- 
volved upon  his  two  sons,  Isaac  and  IshmaeL  Ris- 
pah  is  found  watching  the  bodies  of  her  slaughter- 
ed children  by  day  and  by  night,  till  her  interposi- 
tion ceased  only  because  it  became  useless  through 
the  resistless  and  consuming  hand  of  time.  The 
sisters  of  Lazarus  were  not  afraid  of  the  grave  of 
their  brother.  The  mother  of  Jesus  had  as  fine 
and  as  acute  Teelings  ast  the  high-born  and  the 
high-bred  females,  who  from  excess  of  affectation 
(for  it  is  not  sensibility)  abandon  their  dwelling  the 
moment  death  enters  it  :  yet  she  was  found  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross,  and  did  not  shrink  from  the 
scene  of  trial, while  there  remained  a  single  maternal 
duty  to  fulfil.  The  family  of  Jacob  are  also  seen  col- 
lected  around  his  couch  ,  listening  to  his  words, 


174  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

and  watching  his  countenance,  till  the  scene  is 
closed  by  death. 

The  voice  of  God   calling  away  the  spirit  from 
its  present  habitation,  sounds   in  the  ears  of  one 
man  as  the  death-warrant  of  all  his  hopes,  all  his 
pleasures,  all  his  schemes,  all  his  peace  :  to  anoth- 
er  it    will    be    the    pledge   of    deliverance,     the 
shout  of  triumph,  the  seal  of  immortality.     When 
it  is  said — "'  the  hour  is  come" — one  man  shudders  ; 
horror  and  dismay  thrill  through  all  his  soul ;    the 
blood  curdles  in  his  veins  ;  he  sickens  with  appre- 
hension ;  another  feels  exultation  quicken  the  pal- 
pitations of  his  heart ;  joy  sparkles  in   his   eyes ; 
expectation    sits    upon    his    countenance ;     hope 
springs  forward  on  the  wings  of  triumphant  antic- 
ipation. One  man  says,  'Behold  I  die  ! — Farewell, 
my    possessions    and  my  honours!    Farewell,  my 
my  children  and  servants  !  Farewell,  my  hopes  and 
my  schemes,  my  pleasures  and  my  felicity  !    How 
terrible,  O  Death,  is  thy  approach,  and  how  dread- 
ful are  thy  consequences  !    This  world  fades  from 
my  eyes,  and  how  fearful  are  the  features  of  eter- 
nity !  I  am   leaving  my  gods,  and  there  is  none  to 
deliver !  I  see  before  mo  the  bar  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
but  who  may  abide  the  day  of  his  coming,  and  who 
shall  stand  when   he  appeareth  ?     I  have  refused 
his  friendship;  andean  I  expect  his  smile?  I  have 
slighted  his  love  ;  and  can  I  receive  his  approbation  ? 
I  have  consented  to  live  without  him,  and  now  he 
leaves  me  to  die  without  him — O  for  a  shelter  from 
his  indignation  1' — Another  looks  with  a  calm  and 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  175 

bright  eye  upon  the  grave,  and  says,  '  I  must  short- 
ly put  off  this  tabernacle  !  Welcome,  death  ;  wel- 
couje,  glory  !  Farewell,  years  of  misery  and  of  sin  ! 
Farewell,  world  of  sorrow  and  of  vanity  !  Farewell, 
for  a  season,  my  companions  in  tribulation  !  I  go 
to  my  Father  and  to  your  Father  ;  to  my  God  and 
to  your  God.  Hail,  ye  scenes  of  approaching  and 
unfading  felicity.  Hail,  death,  the  messenger  of 
peace,  the  herald  of  immortality — 

"  Cease,  fond  nature,  cease  thy  strife, 

And  let  me  languish  into  life  !" 

Thus  differently  do  men  think,  and  speak,  and  feel 
upon  the  same  subject:  but  these  different  views 
of  death  must  arise  from  opposite  principles;  and 
there  doubtless  exists  a  powerful  reason  why  he  is 
to  one  man  "the  king  of  terrors,"  and  to  another 
"  an  angel  of  light."  It  is  in  connection  with  the 
sufferings  and  the  atonement  of  our  blessed  Lord 
alone,  that  death  loses  his  sting.  "Forasmuch  as 
the  children  are  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  he 
also  himself  likewise  took  part  of  the  same  ;  that 
through  death  he  might  destroy  him  that  had  the 
power  of  death,  that  is,  the  devil ;  and  deliver  them 
who  through  fear  of  death  were  all  their  lifetime 
subject  to  bondage." 


DEATIi  OF  JACOB. 

There  are  certain  great  principles  in  our  nature 
which  discover  themselves  in  the  very  article  of 
death  ;  and  among  these  is  the  well-known  pro- 


176  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

pensity  which  we  feel  to  be  anxious  respecting  the 
rites  of  sepulture.  We  are  not  satisfied  with  hav- 
ing enjoyed  the  converse  of  those  wiiom  we  loved 
while  they  were  yet  alive,  but  we  wish  to  repose 
by  them  when  dead.  ]t  is  our  last  desire  that  our 
bones  should  lie  by  their  bones;  and  that  our  dust 
should  mingle  with  their  dust.  It  is  the  last  earth- 
ly thing  that  occupies  our  attention.  Thus  was  it 
with  Jacob  :  and  that  he  regarded  it  with  no  com- 
mon solicitude,  is  evident  from  the  reiterated 
charge,  and  from  the  particular  description  of  the 
spot  again  and  again  repeated.  Recognize  in  the 
dying  patriarch  your  own  feehngs,  and  learn  that 
he  is  "flesh  of  your  flesh."  See,  how  strongly  na- 
ture lives  with  him  !  He  has  done  with  the  things 
of  time.  They  attract,  they  torment  him  no  more. 
His  earthly  career  hastens  to  a  close.  He  is  breath- 
ing the  last  sigh.  One  thought,  and  only  one  is 
stolen  from  heaven,  and  it  hovers  over  the  dust  of 
his  departed  family.  Lay  the  map  of  the  world  be- 
fore him — he  regards  not  its  empires — his  eye 
glides  over  them,  in  search  of  anotiier  object,  it  fix- 
es upon  a  little  obscure  field,  and  there  he  buries 
his  remaining  earthly  wishes.  Remove  that  spot, 
and  the  whole  globe  is  nothing  to  him:  it  excites 
no  interest,  it  retains  no  further  tie  upon  him. 
There  his  last  reflections  linger,  till  they  are  recall- 
ed to  the  skies.  "  There,"  said  he,  "  they  buried 
Abraham,  and  Sarah  his  wife  ;  there  they  buried 
Isaac,  and  Rebekah  his  wife ;  and  there  I  buried 
Leah."    With  feelings  something  akin   to  thesei 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  177 

the  Christian  sends  his  thoughts  to  Calvary,  and 
his  affections  hnger  upon  the  sacred  mount  with 
mournful  delight,  while  he  reflects,  "There  they 
crucified  him." 

But  the  bonds  of  nature  could  no  longer  hold  a 
spirit  so  prepared  for  heaven.  The  last  wish  was 
expressed  ;  the  last  struggle  was  felt ;  and  he  fled 
to  enjoy  the  immediate  presence  of  God,  and  to 
join  the  society  of  those,  whom,  living,  he  loved, 
and  dying,  he  fondly  remembered! — "Let  me  die 
the  death  of  the  righteous;  and  let  my  last  end  be 
like  his." 


THE  BAD  MAN  IN    SOLITUDE. 

It  is  night.  The  sun  enlightens  another  hemis- 
phere. The  moon  leads  forth  the  hosts  of  heav- 
en :  her  beams  tremble  on  the  water ;  and  her 
testimony  to  the  power  and  wisdom  of  God  is  giv- 
en in  silence.  All  nature  sleeps.  The  murmur  of 
merchandise  ceases.  The  noise  of  business,  and 
the  voice  of  riot,' are  hushed.  The  gates  of  the  city 
are  closed.  Man  has  resigned  his  cares  and  his 
pleasures  to  temporary  oblivion  :  his  senses  are 
locked  up  in  repose :  and  the  image  of  death  is 
impressed  on  his  countenance.  All  sleep,  but  the 
wicked  prophet.  Avarice  permits  him  not  to  close 
his  eyes:  or  if  slumber  surprise  him,  it  cannot 
sooth  him  into  forgetfulness.  His  imagination  is 
at  work  upon  the  materials  of  the  day.  He  sees 
16 


178  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

the  princes  of  Moab  again  opening  their  treasures, 
and  pouring  them  forth  at  his  feet.  He  is  trans- 
ported to  the  court  of  the  monarch  himself,  and  re- 
ceives robes  of  distinction,  and  titles  of  dignity. 
He  grasps  the  gold  which  he  pursues;  and  curses 
the  people  against  whom  he  is  employed-  But 
while  his  fancy  is  thus  engaged,  a  voice  is  heard 
which  chases  these  visions,  which  agitates  and 
oppresses  him,  which  raises  his  hair  with  terror, 
and  rouses  him  from  his  guilty  dreams.  It  is  the 
voice  of  God  :  and  it  addresses  him  in  terms  of  au- 
thority which  will  admit  no  subterfuges.  "And 
God  said,  v/hat  men  are  these  with  thee  ?"  O 
wretched  man,  thine  enemy  hath  found  thee !  and 
he  asks  not  for  information,  but  to  condemn  thee 
out  of  thine  own  mouth  !  Unable  to  deceive,  he  is 
compelled  to  declare  all,  and  the  truth  is  circum- 
stantially related.  That  which  he  pretended  to  the 
embassy  of  Moab  and  Midian  to  seek,  he  finds  un- 
sought and  undesired.  The  will  of  God  is  an- 
nounced to  him,  in  a  positive  prohibition — "Thou 
shalt  7iot  go  ! — "  This  sentence  disperses  all  his 
anticipations  of  distinction,  and  all  his  iiopes  of 
gain. 

We  may  easily  imagine  with  what  feelings  he 
would  pass  the  remainder  of  the  night.  After  such 
a  visit  darkness  and  solitude  would  be  terrible  to 
him :  repose  was  impossible  :  and  he  would  wish 
with  impatience  to  see  the  "eyelids  of  the  morn- 
ing" unclose.  But  the  first  ray  of  light  that  ap- 
peared would  renew  his  anguish  ;    and  the  neces- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  179 

sity  of  aTinoimcing  his  disaj)pointment  cover  him 
■with  confusion.  So  soon  as  it  was  day  he  dismiss- 
ed the  messengers  to  bear  an  account  of  the  di- 
vine prohibition  to  their  master.  As  they  only 
said  to  the  King,  "Balaam  refuseth  to  come  with 
us,"  it  was  natural  that  he  should  conclude  from 
the  comjilexion  of  the  enchanter's  character,  that 
he  did  not  think  the  proposals  of  Balak  sufficiently 
liberal.  Under  this  impression  a  second  embas- 
sy was  dispatched,  composed  of  persons  yet  more 
noble,  with  a  message  couched  in  terms  still  more 
urgent,  and  with  an  unlimited  prospect  of  recom- 
pense. He  was  solicited  to  name  his  own  condi- 
tions;  and  tlie  king  said  by  his  messengers,  "I 
will  do  whatsoever  thou  sayest  unto  me." 

Flattering  terms  I — but  the  recollection  of  the 
night-vision  still  haunts  the  conscience  of  Bjilaam. 
For  a  moment,  a  purer  principle  than  that  which 
was  the  grand  spring  of  his  usual  operations,  ac- 
quires the  ascendency;  and  he  said,  "If  Balak 
would  give  me  his  house  full  of  silver  and  gold,  I 
cannot  go  beyond  the  word  of  the  Lord  my  God, 
to  do  less  or  more."  Happy  had  it  been  for  him, 
if  this  principle  had  continued  to  prevail;  if  his 
intercourse  with  the  enemies  of  God  had  here 
ceased;  and  if  the  love  of  money  had  perished  un- 
der the  conviction  of  his  allegiance  to  his  Maker. 
But  the  impression  was  momentary.  The  balance 
had  all  along  leaned  on  the  side  of  the  world :  the 
finger  of  God  touched  it,  and  the  scale  preponde- 


180  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

rated  for  the  instant  in  favour  of  heaven  ;  but  no 
sooner  was  the  propelling  force  withdrawn,  than 
the  beam  turned,  and  it  fell  back  to  its  original  de- 
clination. Well  has  it  been  said,  "  the  love  of 
money  is  the  root  ot  all  evil."  Every  law  is 
broken,  every  duty  neglected,  every  sacred  obliga- 
tion violated,  to  gratify  its  insatiable  cravings. 
Other  vices  are  temporary — the  strongest  passions 
are  controlled,  subdued,  and  destroyed  by  time. 
Other  sins  are  [limited  to  certain  seasons  of  life, 
and  frequently  lose  their  force  and  influence  as  the 
man  grows  older.  The  fire  which  consumes  the 
young,  has  a  boundary  placed  to  its  raging,  and  is 
extinguished  by  age.  Follies  become  corrected  by 
experience  :  and  wisdom  is  taught  by  the  "  multi- 
tude of  days."  But  avarice  cleaves  closer  to  the 
heart  as  years  advance:  its  influence  is  increased 
by  time:  it  lives  amid  the  snows  of  life,  when  ev- 
ery emotion  besides  itself  is  frozen  ;  and  it  quick- 
ens the  pulsations  of  a  heart  dead  to  every  other 
passion.  The  canker  that  devoured  the  strength 
of  the  youth,  and  chased  the  bloom  of  his  cheek, 
eats  into  the  tranquilUty  of  age,  and  adds  wrinkles 
of  care  to  the  traces  drawn  upon  the  countenance 
by  the  hand  of  time. 

Again  the  heart  of  Balaam  gives  way;  and  he 
tampers  with  temptation  till  it  destroys  him.  The 
positive  prohibition  which  he  had  received  is  neg- 
lected ;  and  he  vainly  hopes  a  repeal  of  the  divine 
commandment.  Night  returns :  the  sun  is  faith- 
ful to  his  going  down ;  and  the  very  advances  of 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  181 

the  evening  ought  to  have  been  a  check  to  "  the 
madness  of  the  prophet."  Deaf  as  he  was  to  the 
still  voice  of  nature,  declaring  the  divine  immuta- 
bility !  could  he  hope  a  revolution  in  his  purpose 
who  gives  the  day  and  the  night  in  remembrance 
of  a  promise  once  pronounced  ?  But  avarice  ap- 
pears in  this  instance  to  have  veiled  even  his  un- 
derstanding. A  second  visit  from  God,  however, 
grants  him  permission  to  go!  But,  what  a  per- 
mission! the  prohibition  was  an  act  of  friendship^: 
thepermission'is  an  act  of  indignation.  The  pro- 
hibition was  evidently  conducive  to  his  safety  :  the 
permission  is  as  evidently  given  him  at  his  peril. 
It  resembles  the  ease  allowed  to  Ephraim — "He  is 
joined  to  idols,  " /e^  him  alone."  Balaam  is  found 
perverse,  and  he  is  given  over  to  his  own  heart's 
lusts.  The  spirit  of  the  language  is — "Go — and 
take  the  consequences  ;  but  although  you  carry 
your  point  here — I  will  yet  be  obeyed — 'the  word 
which  I  shall  say  unto  thee,  that  shalt  thou  do.'  " 
Chasten  me,  O  God,  according  to  thy  wisdom  : 
control  my  passions,  and  refuse  my  desires,  when- 
ever they  displease  thee,  and  in  whatever  way 
shall  seem  good  in  thy  sight — but  never  curse  me 
with  such  a  permission,  nor  resign  me  to  the  do- 
minion of  my  own  devices. 

Behold  him  eager  to  set  out  on  this  perilous 
journey.  He  rises  early  in  the  morning  ;  and  ex- 
hibits an  alacrity  seldom  manifested  by  those  who 
profess  to  obey  nobler  principles.  The  princes  of 
Moab  advance  before  him  to  apprize  the  king  of 


182  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

the  success  of  their  mission,  and  to  prepare  the 
court  for  his  approach.  Balaam  is  left  to  pursue 
his  way  unattended,  except  by  his  two  servants — 
is  left  to  solitude  and  meditation.  I  do  not  envy 
him  his  situation.  Retirement  is  desirable  only 
when  a  man  is  in  alliance  with  Heaven,  and  at 
peace  with  his  own  conscience. 


PROPHECY    DEPENDENT     ON     PROVIDENCE 
FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

With  respect  to  providence,  we  know  that  the" 
ways  of  God  are  perfect,  but  our  comprehension 
of  them  is  limited.     It  is  yet  night  with   us,  and 
will  continue  so  till  we  quit  the  present  state  of  be- 
ing.    Our  brightest  moments,  are  but  as  the  dawn 
of  the  morning,  when    cloud  and   mist  rest  upon 
the  landscape,  and  every  object  seen  at  all,  is  dis- 
cerned only  darkly  and  uncertainly.     Man  is  act- 
ing irrationally  when  he  attempts  to  bring  down 
all  the  operations  of  an,  infinite  mind  to  his  stand- 
ard.    All  that  he  comprehends  of  the  plans  of  God, 
is  harmonious   and  wise  ;  his  conclusion  ought  to 
be,  when  he  no  longer  comprehends  them  perfect- 
ly, that  the  defect  is  in  himself  and  not  in  the  thing 
contemplated  :  but  unhappily  the  pride  of  his  heart 
leads  him  to  another  and   a  false  conclusion  that 
what  his  limited  capacity  cannot  comprehend,  is 
in  itself  incomprehensible.     The  fact  only  is,  that 
it  is  so  to  /lim:  but  this   involves  nothing  respect- 
ing the  thing  itself,  and  proves  nothing  except  that 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  183 

it  is  of  a  higher  order  than  his  own.  The  same 
thing  may  be  remarked  with  respect  \.o  j)ropliecy. 
Some  parts  of  the  predictions  before  ns,  are  a  htlle 
oljscure  in  themselves,  and  are  made  more  so  by- 
commentators.  Every  man  conjectures,  if  he  can 
do  nothing  else:  and  thus  hypothesis  is  heaped 
upon  hypothesis,  because  the  interpreter  will  aim  at 
originality,  till  amidst  much  learning  and  ingenu- 
ity, the  very  existence  and  purport  of  the  text  van- 
ish out  of  sight.  In  the  few  verses  which  remain 
to  be  considered,  we  shall  not  follow  expositors 
through  all  their  intricacies,  but  at  once  shew  what 
appears  to  us  the  natural  direction  of  the  words. 
^Vhere  we  cannot  trace  the  fulfilment  ofthem,  we 
shall  confess  our  inability,  entreating  you  to  keep 
in  mind  what  we  have  now  promised.  Prophecy 
must  be  explained  by  Providence,  to  be  clearly 
understood.  When,  therefore,  it  relates  to  remote 
events  the  very  remembrance  of  which  has  per- 
ished, and  to  transactions  the  record  of  which  is 
lost,  the  prediction  of  necessity  becomes  obscure: 
we  have  no  longer  the  medium  through  which  it 
might  be  interpreted  :  the  defect  is  not  in  the  pre- 
diction wjilch  clearly  related  to  positive  events; 
but  in  the  absence  of  the  history  which  could  have 
rendered  it  luminous.  Having  established  this, 
we  j^rant  nothing  to  infidelity,  in  granting  that  the 
jyrediction  ?V  obscure ;  since  it  is  71  of  so  in  itself, 
but  appears  so  to  us,  because  of  the  scantiness  of 
our  information  on  the  subjects  to  which  it  refers. 
We  shall  therefore  never  shrink  from   confessing 


184  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

that  we  do  not  perceive  its  meaning,  where  we 
cannot  trace  its  relation  to  events  connected  with 
it,  but  wliich  the  hand  oftime  has  blotted  out  from 
the  records  of  this  world. 


CHARACTER  OF  BALAAM  IMPROVED. 

He  had  sacrificed  to  the  king  of  Moab,  his  con- 
science, his  integrity,  his  peace  of  mind,  and  his 
future  liappiness  :  yet  because  he  could  not  sacri- 
fice Israel  also  (which  in  truth  Balak  knew  he 
would  willingly  have  done  had  not  a  stronger  arm 
restrained  him)  he  was  sent  home  in  disgrace, 
proscribed  as  an  offender,  and  urged  to  flee  on 
peril  of  stronger  evidences  of  indignation  on  part 
of  the  offended  monarch.  Not  only  was  he  thus 
dismissed,  unrewarded  and  insulted  :  but  his  em- 
ployer aggravated  his  cruel  disappointment,  by 
taunting  him  with  what  he  designed  to  have  done 
for  him.  O  my  friend  !  if  indeed  you  are  wasting 
your  best  days,  and  sacrificing  your  noblest  pow- 
ers in  the  service  of  the  world  and  of  sin — turn 
again  and  look  once  more  at  Balaam,  with  melan- 
choly steps  retracing  his  journey  back  to  the  moun- 
tains of  the  east,  unattended  and  unhonoured  !  Not 
such  a  return  had  he  anticipated,  when  he  set  out 
accompanied  by  the  princes  of  Moab,  with  the 
promise  of  a  reward  as  boundless  as  his  ambition  I 
See  then  the  picture  of  your  own  destination ! 
In  the  evening  of  life,  when  you  expect  from  the 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  185 

world  the  promised  recompense;  you  will  be  left 
to  lay  your  hoary  head  ujjon  a  pillow  of  thorns; 
and  find  too  late,  that  "the  wages  of  sin  is  deatli ;" 
and  that  the  smiles  of  the  world  are  destruction. 
Descending  into  the  vale  of  years,  you  shall  "look 
for  peace,  but  find  despair,  companion  of  your 
way !" 

Balaam  is  now  no  more  !  He  is  as  though  he 
bad  never  been,  so  far  as  himself  is  concerned! 
What  does  it  now  avail  him,  that  the  renown  of 
his  talents  reached  the  court  of  Moab,  fiom  the  re- 
tirement of  the  mountains  of  the  East?  What  does 
it  avail  hini,  that  a  monarch  sought  his  assistance, 
and  that  a  king  became  a  suppliant  to  him  ?  And 
who,  or  what,  is  Balak?  All  his  wealth  bestowed 
upon  the  unhappy  man  who  preferred  his  friend- 
ship to  the  friendship  of  God,  had  he  kept  his  prom- 
ise to  its  widest  extent,  could  not  now  compensate 
the  wretched  but  illustrious  prophet  of  Mesopota- 
mia !  His  honours — his  riches — have  perished 
with  him  :  his  guilt— his  infamy  remain  forever! 

So  shall  perish  all  thine  enemies,  O  Lord  !  Chris- 
tian, do  not  envy  them  their  transient  renown. 
Hold  on  thy  way,  through  the  lowly,  sequestered 
vale  of  life  rejoicing  !  Advance  softly  and  silently 
— obscure  and  unnoticed  to  heaven!  There  is  thy 
life,  thy  renown,  thy  record,  thy  recompense  !  The 
sword  of  justice  quivers  over  the  head  of  guilty 
greatness.  God  says,  to  them  in  the  very  midst 
of  their  hopes — "Return,  ye  children  of  men" — 
and  see!    their  countenances  change,  and  they 


186  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

"go  to  their  place."  The  voice  of  mortality  also 
addresses  you  :  but  the  voice  of  Jesus  mingles  with 
the  notes  of  death.  He  calls  you  home.  "Arise," 
he  says,  "  enter  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord !" 


GOD,  THE  SUPREME  RULER. 

National  judgments  are  the  punishment  of  na- 
tional sins  :  and  in  the  history  of  empires  we  see 
still  present  retributions,  of  so  awful  and  impres- 
sive a  nature,  as  to  silence,  in  an  hour  of  calm  re- 
flection, the  doubts  which  scepticism  has  laboured 
to  raise,  respecting  the  superintendance  of  provi- 
dence, and  which  extort  from  the  lip  of  conviction, 
"Verily  there  is  a  God  that  ruleth  in  the  earth." 
In  the  desolations  which  lay  waste  the  fairest  parts 
of  the  globe,  we  are  sometimes  compelled  to  see 
the  hand  of  God  lifted  up:  but  who  lays  these 
things  to  heart?  Man  always  is  prone  to  stop 
short  at  second  causes.  He  seldom  regards  more 
than  tlie  instrument.  He  is  satisfied  with  deplor- 
ing the  effect.  We  are  carried  beyond  these  infe- 
rior considerations  in  the  passage  before  us.  When 
it  represents  an  enemy  thundering  at  the  gates  of 
Jerusalem,  it  does  not  say,  tliat  they  were  attracted 
by  the  wealth,  or  envious  of  the  greatness,  of  the 
Jews:  that  they  came  to  punish  acts  of  cruel  ag- 
gression, or  the  infringement  of  treaties:  that  the 
thirst  of  insatiable  ambition  prevailed,  even  when 
no   such  provocations  were    given:    because  al- 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  187 

though  all  these  were  causes,  they  were  only  sub- 
ordinate. Sin  made  God  the  enemy  of  the  nation^. 
And  although  the  invading  adversaries  were  their 
immediate  scourge,  they  were  only  instrumental. 
The  Agent  is  far  superior.  The  favor  of  God  is 
the  defence  of  a  country:  not  their  monarchs  and 
counsellors:  not  their  treaties  and  alliances:  not 
their  chariots  and  horses  :  not  their  fortifications 
and  navies— these  are  usually  the  7nca?i5  employed 
to  support  the  existence  and  the  prosperity  of  a 
country — but  security  rises  from  an  higher  source, 
and  is  preserved  by  divine  and  constant  superin- 
tendance. 


WHAT  THINK  YE  OF  CHRIST  ? 

The  Jews  rejected,  but  do  you  receive  him  .^ 
The  prophets  call  him  the  desire  of  all  nations  ; 
and  in  himself  he  is  an  object  infinitely  desirable. 
What  are  the  traits  of  character  which  you  have 
been  accustomed  to  admire  and  love  ?  Are  they 
those  which  alone  stamp  dignity  upon  human  na- 
ture, and  best  distinguish  man  from  the  brute  cre- 
ation? Are  tliey  those  emanations  of  Deity  which 
sin  extinguished  at  the  fall,  and  which  the  transac- 
tions of  Calvary  restored  in  all  their  former  excel- 
lence— in  all  their  pristine  beauty — in  all  their  pri- 
meval splendour — in  all  their  ancient  grandeur  and 
majesty  ?  Do  you  indeed  venerate  purity  of  char- 
acter, benevolence  of  life,  holiness  ofconversation, 
tenderness  of  heart?     Ah,  see  them  most  conspic- 


188  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

uous,  most  pre-eminent,  most  permanent,  in  the 
object  now  presented  to  your  contemplation.  Is 
your  heart  formed  for  friendship  ?  Are  you  cast 
in  the  mould  of  social  affections?  Do  you  love 
the  domestic  circle  ?  Do  you  prize  above  the 
world's  wealth,  a  faithful  bosom  upon  which  you 
may  repose  your  head :  a  faithful  ear  into  which 
you  may  pour  your  feelings:  a  faithful  heart, 
which  will  throb  with  your  anxieties,  and  exult  in 
your  joys?  Behold  here,  "a  friend  that  loveth  at 
all  times — a  brother  born  for  adversity — a  friend 
that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother;"  and  "in  all 
our  afflictions  he  was  afflicted." 

''He   in  the   days  of  feeble  flesh, 

Pour'd  out  his  cries  and  tears; 

And  in  his  measure  feels  afresh 

What  every  member  bears  !" 

Are  you  a  sinner  overwhelmed  with  the  sad 
conviction  of  guilt  and  of  misery  ?  Is  it  all  fear 
without  and  conflict  within?  Does  your  con- 
science testify  against  you,  and  your  heart  con- 
demn you  ?  Does  the  sentence  of  impartial  justice 
against  all  transgression  roll  in  thunder  over  your 
head?  Look  up,  trembling  spirit!  The  voice  of 
Jesus  can  hush  this  tempest.  The  smiles  of  his 
face  will  disperse  these  threatening  clouds.  Tran- 
quillity shall  break  through  them,  and  shine  once 
more  upon  thy  troubled  heart.  Hope,  and  faith, 
and  joy,  shall  supplant  fear,  and  unbelief,  and  an- 
guish when  he  says,  "  Go  in  peace,  thy  sins  are 
forgiven  thee  !" 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  189 

EVERY  THING    CONNECTED  WITH  THIS 
WORLD  IS  LOCAL  AND  TEMPORARY. 

Every  thing  connected  with  this  world  is  local 
and  temporary.     The  empires  which  human  co- 
operation has  raised,  are  continually    changing; 
the  sceptre  is  passing  from  hand  to  hand  ;  and  the 
balance  of  power  among  the  nations  is  jierpetually 
shifting.     The  busy,  ardent   countenance  of  every 
man  whom,  we  meet,  discovers  that  he  is,  or  thinks 
that  he  is,  of  some  importance.     But  so  his  fathers 
thought  before  him  ;  and  they  are  forgotten  ;  so 
his  children  shall  think  after  him,  when  he  sleeps 
in  the  dust,  and  all  his  talents,  his  activity,  and  his 
services,  are  buried  with  him.      "One  generation 
passeth  away,  aud   another  generation   cometh." 
We  trample  the  dust  of  cur  ancestors  under  our 
feet,  without  reflecting  that  it  once  lived,  and  with- 
out recollecting  that  we  also  shall  be  mingled  with 
the  clods  of  the  valley. 

Religious  dispensations  are  changing  also.  We* 
see  Aaron,  God's  high  priest,  going  up  to  the  top 
of  Mount  Hor,  and  laying  down  his  robes  and  his 
life  together.  The  Son  descends,  arrayed  in  his 
Father's  vestments,  to  fill  his  place  for  a  season  ; 
and  then  to  bequeath  the  priestly  raiment,  and  the 
priestly  office,  to  his  successor.  Tiie  apostle  looks 
back  upon  the  long  train,  who  presided  first  in  the 
tabernacle,  and  then  in  the  temple,  and  says — 
"  these  were  not  suffered  to  continue  by  reason  of 
death."  When  this  order  of  things  was  set  aside, 
and  the  simpUcity  of  the  gospel  supplanted  the 


190  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

pomp  of  Judaism,  the  same  vicissitudes  marked 
the  new  dispensation  ;  and  upon  Christian  temples 
we  see  inscribed  the  same  characters  ofmulabiUty. 
The  apostles  followed  the  prophets  to  the  land  of 
silence.  Their  testimony  was  taken  up  by  pastors 
and  teachers ;  and  God  has  maintained,  without 
interruption,  a  standing  ministry.  These  have 
been  called  away,  every  man  in  his  order,  to  resign 
their  employment,  and  to  give  an  account  of  their 
stewardship.  The  distribution  of  ordinances  now 
rests  with  us,  upon  whom  the  care  of  the  churches 
devolves  in  the  present  day,  and  who  wait  the  sig- 
nal to  depart,  and  to  resign  our  office  to  others. 
We  see  your  countenances  change  from  sabbath  to 
sabbath,  as  we  address  you  in  our  respective  con- 
gregations. We  remember  that  other  feet  have 
stood  in  our  pulpits,  and  that  other  voices  have 
sounded  within  the  walls  which  encircle  our  wor- 
shipping assemblies.  Every  year  some  of  our  peo- 
ple drop  around  us ;  we  perceive  the  grave  opening 
at  our  own  feet,  and  death  ready  to  seal  our  lips, 
when  we  shall  have  pronounced  the  messages 
which  God  commands  us  to  deliver.  And  not  only 
do  we  change,  but  the  whole  creation  fades  around 
us.  The  heavens  are  waxing  old.  The  founda- 
tions of  the  earth  are  decaying.  The  pillars  which 
prop  universal  nature  bend  with  age,  tremble  un- 
der the  pressure  of  years,  and  appear  ready  to 
sink  beneath  the  additional  weight  which  time  im- 
poses. He  alone  remains  unchanged  who  created 
them  ;  and  he  is  saying,  "Behold  I  make  all  things 
new !" 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  191 

GOU'S  GRAND    EPOCHS. 

When  God  speaks  of  time,  lie  usually  speaks  of 
it  as  a  whole,  without  regarding  its  little  divisions  ; 
for  it  is  less  in  the  scale  of  his  eternity,  than  a  mo- 
ment is  to  all  its  accumulated  ages,  from  its  com- 
mencement to  its  consummation.     There  are  four 
or  five  epochs  in  time  which  he  sometimes  conde- 
scends to  fix  as  the  measurement  of  his  providence 
and  j)urposes-     The  day  when  he  set  the  stream 
of  existence  flowing;    when   "the  morning  stars 
sang  together,  and  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for 
joy :"  when  a  beautiful  and  harmonious  creation 
emerged  from  the  darkness  and  discord  of  chaos. 
The  day  when  willing  to  shew  his  "  wrath,  and  to 
make  his  ])ower  known,"  he  broke  up  "  the  foun- 
tains of  the  deep,"  and  opened  "the  windows  of 
heaven,"  and  destroyed  the  earth   wiiich  he  had 
made,  and  with  it  the  rebels  wlio  had  grieved  his 
Spirit;  and   all  flesh  died — a  remnant   excei)ted, 
amounting  only  to  "eight  souls,"  whom  he  pre- 
served unhurt  amidst   this    universal    overthrow. 
The  day,  when  his  only-begotten  Son  veiled  his 
uncreated  glory  in  human  flesh,  and   tabernacled 
with  men,  and  died  "  the  just  for  the  unjust,"  that 
he  might  bring  us  to  God.      The  day,  when  "the 
mountain    of  the  Lord's   House   shall  be   exalted 
above  every   high  hill,  and  the  nations  shall  flow 
unto  it :"  when   the   Jew   shall  stretch  forth  his 
hand  to  Messiah  the  Prince,  and  say,   "Blessed  is 
he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  ;"  when 


192  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

Jehovah  will  "set  his  King  upon  his  holy  hill  of 
Zion,"  and  give  him  "  the  heathen  for  his  inheri- 
tance, and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  his 
possession."  The  day,  when^the  angel  shall  "  stand 
upon  the  sea,  and  upon  the  earth,  and  lift  up  his 
hand  to  heaven,  and  sware  by  him  that  liveth  for- 
ever and  ever — that  there  shall  be  time  no  longer." 
These  are  the  epochs  which  God  fixes,  as  the 
measurement  of  his  time  ;  and  not  the  reigns  of 
Ahasuerus,  and  Alexander,  and  Caesar,  and  the 
long  succession  of  monarchs,  from  Nimrod  to  the 
last  who  shall  sit  upon  a  throne.  These  are  all 
inferior  events  swallowed  up  and  unnoticed  in  di- 
vine calculation. 


PROVIDENCE. 

There  is  not  a  doctrine  more  absurd  in  itself,  or 
more  pernicious  to  the  interests  of  mankind,  than 
the  doctrine  of  chance.  It  is  absurd  to  imagine 
that  God  should  create  the  world  and  abandon  the 
government  of  it  :  that  he  should  form  beings 
wholly  and  entirely  dependent  upon  himself,  and 
then  withdraw  his  support  from  them.  It  is  per- 
nicious to  human  morals,  and  to  human  society,  to 
insinuate  that  God  has  no  superintendance  over 
the  affairs  of  men,  and  that  they  have  no  responsi- 
bility to  him.  It  is  a  degrading  representation  of 
the  Deity  to  assert,  that,  supremely  happy  in  him- 
self, he  disregards  the  felicity  of  his  creatures ;  and 
that  infinitely  secure,  he  leaves  them  alone  on  the 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  193 

troubled  deeps  of  life,  tossed  from  wave  to  wave, 
the  sport  of  adverse  and  ungovernable  winds.  It 
is  not  true.  He  abandons  not  the  little  ark  that 
contains  the  human  race,  as  it  floats  upon  a  tem- 
pestuous sea.  He  did  not  launch  yonder  worlds 
with  an  omnipotent  arm,  till  he  had  prescribed 
their  orbits  with  infinite  skill.  The  doctrine  of  di- 
vine superiiitendance  stimulates  exertion.  A  man 
labours  with  a  spirit  proportionate  to  his  expecta- 
tion of  success.  If  the  issue  be  left  to  chance,  he 
may  well  despair  :  but  if  it  be  in  the  hands  of  prov- 
idence, which  will  undoubtedly  produce  the  end 
best  adapted  to  his  interests,  he  has  an  object  be- 
fore him  of  unspeakable  moment,  and  he  will  pur- 
sue the  use  of  the  means  with  increasing  vigour. 
Scripture  Prophecy  once  established,  is  a  decisive 
and  resistless  demonstration  of  the  existence,  the 
agency,  and  the  wisdom  of  divine  providence. 


THE  ENSLAVED  AFPdCAN. 

Snatched  from  his  country,  separated  from  his 
wife  and  his  children,  compressed  into  a  space  al- 
most too  narrow  for  the  springs  of  existence  to 
play  as  he  crosses  the  waves  that  waft  him  forever 
from  every  object  that  communicated  a  pulse  of 
joy  to  his  heart,  he  is  dragged  to  a  foreign  market 
as  a  beast  of  burden,  and  sold  to  suffer  and  to  sus- 
tain all  the  horrors  of  slavery.  In  vain  he  turns 
his  eyes  and  stretches  his  hands  towards  the  shore* 
of  his  native  land  which  have  disappeared  ;  in  vain 
17 


194  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

he  calls  upon  his  family,  or  implores  pity  from  his 
taskmasters  ;  the  winds  scatter  his  lamentations, 
and  the  insensible  ocean  drinks  his  tears.  While 
he  labours  under  the  scorching  noon,  or  is  chilled 
by  the  damps  of  the  night,  nothing  is  left  to  allevi- 
ate the  bitterness  of  captivity.  He  lias  no  wife 
whose  affectionate  bosom  would  prove  a  pillar  to 
his  throbbing  head  ;  no  child  to  lisp  his  name  ;  no 
parent  to  wipe  away  the  tear  half-suppressed  from 
his  swollen  eyes.  The  scourge  is  tiie  recompense 
of  his  toil;  and  the  blood  streaming  down  his  sides 
ploughed  by  the  hand  of  violence,  is  the  wages  of 
his  hard  bondage.  Hope,  that  lightens  anguish, 
that  sweetens  care,  that  heals  the  wounds  of  the 
heart,  the  only  remaining  consolation  of  the  miser- 
able, and  that  assists  even  the  prisoner  to  carry  his 
fetters — Hope  has  stretched  her  wings  and  fled 
from  the  fields  nourished  by  human  blood,  the 
blood  of  Africa's  enslaved  sons.  He  casts  many  a 
gloomy  look  to  the  close  of  that  life,  which  is  to 
him  trouble  and  anguish.  He  has  not  even  the 
consolation  of  reflecting  that  he  shall  lay  his  head 
upon  the  turf  that  hides  his  ancestors,  and  repose 
by  the  side  of  his  parents:  an  idea  precious  to  na- 
ture in  her  wildest,  darkest,  most  uncultivated 
state  ;  and  which  civilized  nations  have  never  con- 
sented to  relinquish.  He  winds  up  all  his  mental 
powers  against  the  weakness  of  complaint;  he 
sheds  no  tears  but  in  secret ;  and  despair  breaks 
his  heart.  Nature  has  taught  him  that  in  the 
grave  "  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  and  the 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  195 

-and  he  anticipates  death  as 
the    only  friend    which    oppression    has   left  him. 
And  who  are   his   tyrants  ?    The   descendants  of 
Shem  and  of  Japheth— polished  Europe-     By  what 
principles  of  justice  is  Europe  the  scourge  of  Af- 
rica ?  By  what  right  is  the  liberty  of  that  man  in- 
fringed and  destroyed?    We  claim  a  right  to  the 
air  which  we  breathe;    and  to  the  general,  unre- 
stricted bounties  of  nature  ;  and  he  has  with  us  this 
common  right.  Britain  concentrates  all  her  forces, 
and    awakens  her   energies   along   all  her  shores 
her  sons  arc  willing  to  die  for  the  cause  of  free- 
dom ;  and  this  queen  of  the  nations  has  set  a  noble 
example  to  every  other   empire,  in  breaking  her 
yoke  from   the  neck  of  Africa.     Ah,   let  it  not  be 
said,  he  has  no  feeling — Look  upon  his  counten- 
ance, is  it  not  furrowed  by  tears  springing  from  a 
sense  of  sorrow  and  of  injury  ?     His  heart  once 
beat  with  parental  transport.     The  hut  was  pre- 
cious to   him    which   sheltered   his  children.     He 
wept  with  his  fiimily  wlien  they  wept,  and  rejoiced 
when  they  rejoiced.     What  is  there  in  the  conti- 
nent scorched  by  the  sun's  vertical  rays  that  should 
so  essentially  alter  man  ?      Pierce  that  arm — you 
will  find  blood   circulating  through  its  veins  and 
arteries  like  your  own.      His  lind)s  are  as  pliant, 
and  his  heart  as  warm.     Do  not  call  him  a  barba- 
rian.    Deprived  of  all  his  rights,  with  all  his  con- 
solations destroyed  before  his  eyes,  are  we  to  won- 
der that  mere  nature  should  be  sullen  and  revenge- 
ful ?  Are  not  those  the  savages  who  would  not  have 


196  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

pity,  when  they  saw  the  tears  of  their  brother? 
and  who  have  redDced  him  to  the  situation,  which 
excites  his  fury,  and  fires  his  malice  ? 


FALSE  ESTIMATES  OF  CHARACTER. 

We  usually  form  our  judgment  of  actions,  from 
their  splendour  rather  than  from  their  utility.  We 
are  apt  to  be  dazzled  by  magnificence  of  appear- 
ance, without  inquiring  after  the  intrinsic  value  of 
the  object  admired  :  and  we  are  guided  by  adven- 
titious and  imposing  circumstances,  in  forming  our 
decisions  upon  any  subject,  more  frequently,  than 
by  its  native  dignity  and  importance.  In  judging 
of  human  characters,  we  are  necessarily  compelled 
to  reason  upon  that  which  is  external:  to  gather 
motives  from  actions,  to  rise  from  effects  to  causes, 
and  from  conduct  to  argue  principles.  Unable  to 
read  the  heart,  or  to  penetrate  the  veil  that  covers 
the  latent  but  powerful  springs  of  human  opera- 
tion, we  know  others  only  as  they  seem,  not  as 
they  are.  But  we  carry  this  principle  too  frequent- 
ly beyond  necessity.  When  we  might  have  op- 
portunity of  deciding  upon  something  more  satis- 
factory than  mere  appearance,  we  neither  seek  nor 
embrace  the  occasion  :  we  rather  court  that  which 
accommodates  itself  to  the  senses,  to  the  pas- 
sions, even  to  our  infirmities,  than  that  which  is 
addressed  to  the  reason,  to  the  understanding  and 
to  the  conscience.  The  eye,  in  a  flower  garden, 
overlooks  the  violet,  and  is  arrested  by  the  tulip : 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  197 

because  the  one  courts  us  with  all  the  luxuriance 
of  lovely    and  dazzling   colours,    and  the  other  is 
modestly  satisfied  with  diffusing  fragrance  around 
it,  without  pressing    to  be  seen.     Worth   seldom 
asks  a  witness  of  its  excellence,  and  often  there- 
fore loses  its  just  applause.     Those  actions  which 
attract  universal  notice,  and  succeed  in  obtaining 
general  admiration,   not  merely  have    frequently 
little  intrinsic  value,  but  are  little  more  than  s[)len- 
did  vices.     In  the  estimation  of  God,  he,  whom  the 
world  almost  worship  as  a  Saviour,  is  found  a  de- 
stroyer.    We  regard  persons  and  things  through 
the  medium  of  prejudice  arising  from  our  situation 
in  respect  of  them  ;  could   we  shift  our  station,  or 
the  medium  through  which  we   behold  them,  we 
should  generally  find   the  excellencies  or  defects 
ascribed  to  them,  by  the  partialities  of  our  senti- 
ments of  regard  or  of  aversion,  magnified  beyond 
all  just  proportion,  and  all  real  existence.     Thus 
the  man   whom  one  nation  regards  as  an  object 
all-glorious,  is  to   another  inexpressibly  vile  :  both 
speak  an<l  judge  according  to  their  interest,  and 
their  particular  relation  to  him :  both   are  i)artly 
right  and    partly  wrong:    he  has   good  and  bad 
qualities — but  in  a  serious  point  of  view,  by  parties 
altogether  unconcerned,  if  such  can  be,  a  conquer- 
or must  of  necessity  be  a  curse:    because   he  de- 
presses  one  class  of  his  brethren   of  mankind  as 
much  as   he  elevates  unduly  another.     The  orb 
which  rises  upon  one  quarter  of  the  globe  as  a  Sun, 
blasts  the  other  as  a  meteor  ;  the  beams  which  af- 


198  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

ford  to  one  favoured  spot  vitality  and  nutrition, 
shed  upon  the  rest  blight  and  mortality.  Yet  these 
are  the  objects  that  excite  attention,  and  command 
superior  respect! — On  the  contrary,  a  life  of  use- 
fulness terminating  in  a  death  of  ignominy — a  Sa- 
viour, wearing  the  form  of  a  servant — tabernacled 
almost  unknown  among  us — was  noticed  only  to 
be  pei'secuted,  and  closed  the  scene  of  his  suffer- 
ings amidst  the  brutal  shouts  of  unfeeling  multi- 
tudes, whose  peace  was  purchased  by  his  agonies! 


THE     SHORT-SIGHTEDNESS    OF     MAN    CON- 
TRASTED WITH  THE  PERFECTION  OF  GOD. 

There  is  no  truth  capable  of  elucidation  more 
general  and  complete,  than  that  it  is  im})ossible  to 
judge  the  future  with  accuracy  from  the  features 
of  the  present.  Time  and  mortality  destroy  hu- 
man calculations,  deride  man's  boasted  prescience, 
and  punish  his  presumptuous  reliance  upon  futu- 
rity. 

Sometimes  the  foundation  of  a  building  is  laid 
wide  and  deej) :  tiie  materials  used  are  firm  and 
good  :  the  ground  is  well  chosen  :  the  workmen 
are  numerous  :  the  builder  is  skilful :  the  plan  is 
correct:  the  design  is  magnificent:  and  yet  the 
topstone  is  never  brought  forth,  and  the  structure 
is  never  finished.  Death  calls  the  master  away  to 
another  house  :  or  adversity  palsies  his  arm,  dries 
up  his  resources,  and  changes  his  prospects. 
That   which  was  planned  for  a  palace,  stands  a 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  199 

ruin.  The  purposed  ball  of  pleasure,  becomes  the 
seatofsilent  desolaliou.  The  work  which  was  de- 
signed to  extort  admiration  from  the  eye  of  envy 
itself,  calls  fortb  a  sigh  of  pity  and  of  regret  from 
the  bosom  of  every  passenger.  The  vision  which 
presented  itself  to  the  dej)arted  ov.ner  of  this 
work,  was  very  unlike  this  sad  picture.  Providence 
refused  to  filj  up  the  outline  which  human  pre- 
sun)piion  had  drawn  ;  and  the  event  has  demon- 
strated, that  be  who  flattered  himself  with  the 
completion  of  bis  magnificent  design,  was  no 
prophet. 

Sometimes  a  man  sets  out  upon  a  journey,  with 
ever}'  reasonable  prospect  of  success  in  his  schemes 
and  of  restoration  to  his  family  :  which  expecta- 
tion hope  does  not  fail  to  stamp  with  the  currency 
of  certainty.  But  sickness  seizes  him  by  the  way  ; 
and  mortality  meets  him  on  bis  journey.  He  is 
Iiurried  to  that  land,  from  whose  "bourne  no  trav- 
eller returns."  lie  forgot  to  add,  "if  God  will," 
at  the  foot  of  all  his  plans,  and  his  family  are  left 
to  sigh  over  the  neglected  warning — "Ye  know 
not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow." 

Sometimes  in  a  family  it  is  predicted  that  such 
a  boy  will  be  the  honour  and  the  stay  of  his  pa- 
rents' old  age.  He  is  diligent,  affectionate,  and 
obedient :  he  has  every  desirable  quality.  The 
calculation  is  made  too  soon.  Full  many  a  blossom, 
that  expanded  its  bosom  to  the  spring,  falls  from 
the  tree,  and  leaves  no  fruit  behind  it.  He  is  en- 
snared by  temptation.     He  falls  the  victim  of  sin 


200  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYEK. 

and  misery  ;  and  the  premature  grave  that  opens 
to  receive  him,  closes  upon  the  hope,  the  pride, 
the  happiness  of  his  fond  parents,  forever  !  Again, 
others  are  marked  as  a  future  curse.  Frov^ard, 
untractahle,  and  insolent,  they  seem  formed  only 
to  pierce  the  bosom  that  nourished  them.  But 
some  gentle  providence  rouses,  and  the  hand  of 
God  changes  them.  Like  the  disobedient  son  in 
♦he  gospel,  they  say,  "I  will  not"  to  the  voice  of 
parental  solicitation,  and  in  some  happier  moment 
repent,  and  obey  the  command  which  they  op- 
posed. Human  sagacity  is  frustrated  ;  and  human 
penetration  deceived.  The  first  is  made  last,  and 
the  last  becomes  first. 

The  little,  therefore,  that  man  knows  is  confined 
to  the  present ;  and  that  little  is  slowly  acquired. 
The  standard  of  our  powers  is  not  reached  at  once. 
The  child  advances  by  tardy  degrees  to  the 
maturity  of  his  judgment;  and  by  the  aid  of 
much  culture  attains  at  length  the  "fulness  of 
the  stature"  of  his  mind.  Everyday  adds  some 
stroke  to  the  painting:  widens  and  swells  the  orig- 
inal outline :  till  years  give  harmony,  consistency, 
and  beauty  to  the  whole  piece.  Our  conceptions 
are  always  rude  at  first ;  and  are  moulded  into 
shape,  or  polished  into  splendour  by  the  hand  of 
time.  We  find  occasion  often  to  alter  our  original 
plan  ;  often  to  deviate  from  it ;  often  to  abandon 
the  first  idea  altogether.  The  most  simple  device 
of  art  required  time  to  bring  it  to  perfection.  The 
rudest  hut  of  our  forefathers  was  not  erected  in  a 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  201 

day :  and  in  that  rough  outline  are  to  be  traced  the 
principles  upon  which  the  palace  of  the  monarch, 
and  the  temple  of  religion,  were  afterwards,  by  the 
wonderful  progression  of  human  powers  towards 
perpetual  improvement,  founded.  Such  is  man! — 
capable  of  almost  boundless  advancement,  yet  in 
his  clearest  conceptions  and  his  wisest  arrange- 
ments, requiring  time  to  touch  and  to  retouch,  to 
alter  and  to  deliberate,  to  prosecute  and  to  mature 
his  designs. 

But  God  is  the  same  perfectly  wise  Being  from 
first  to  last.  "  His  ways  are  not  as  our  ways,  and 
his  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts ;  his  under- 
standing is  infinite."  His  conceptions  and  plans 
are  complete  from  the  beginning.  Years  can  add 
nothing  to  the  stores  of  his  knowledge.  The  mag- 
nitude and  extent  of  his  schemes  perplex,  distract, 
and  overwhelm  us.  We  are  unable  to  hold  the 
several  links  of  the  infinite  chain  together ;  and 
living  but  an  hour,  we  cannot  comprehend  designs 
which  grasp  eternity.  The  past,  the  present,  and 
the  future,  are  all  before  him,  are  all  alike  to  him. 
His  purpose,  his  providence,  and  his  work,  are  all 
united.  Thousands  of  years  may  intervene  be- 
tween the  design  and  its  accomplishment,  but  the 
thread  is  unbroken.  A  few  month's  delay  in  our 
plans  abates  our  ardour,  and  frequently  makes  us 
relinquish  them  altogether.  But  centuries  revolve, 
and  the  purpose  of  Deity  continues  the  same;  his 
providence  is  silently  and  secretly  fulfilling  his 
18 


20Q  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

pleasure ;  and  the  issue  although  delayed  to  the  thou- 
sandth year,  is  infallibly  certain.  Whenever  he  has 
poured  a  little  ray  of  light  upon  the  future,  and 
directed  the  human  eye  to  follow  it,  and  the  hu- 
man tongue  to  declare  it,  the  event  has  justified  the 
prediction  ;  and  the  inference  is  irresistible,  that 
while  man  "knoweth  not  what  a  day  may  bring 
forth;"  God  "sees  the  end  from  the  beginning." 

Every  thing  that  is  excellent  and  desirable  has 
its  counterfeit.  Revelation  has  sometimes  had  her 
claims  denied  ;  and  sometimes  her  majesty  imita- 
ted 5  but  unaltered  by  any  mode  of  attack,  and 
disdaining  to  shrink  from  inquiry,  she  submits  her 
pure  gold  to  the  crucible  of  truth,  secure  that  it 
shall  come  brighter  from  that  furnace  which  de- 
tects and  consumes  baser  metals.  Some  have  en- 
deavoured to  add  to  the  volume  of  inspiration,  and 
some  to  take  away  from  it :  and  one  of  the  strong- 
est evidences  of  its  authenticity  is,  that  it  remains 
what  it  was  from  the  beginning,  uninjured  by  all 
the  hands  through  which  it  has  passed,  and  unim- 
paired by  the  assaults  of  all  those  adversaries,  who 
have  in  their  turns  been  vanquished  by  time  and 
by  death. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

The  beginnings  were  miraculous,  but  the  close 
shall  be  inconceivable.  Who  that  had  seen  the 
little  band  of  brothers  issuing  from  their  upper 
chamber,  in  all  the  simplicity  of  their  character^ 


BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  203 

unarmed,  iinpatronized,  could  have  imagined  that 
the  throne  of  the  CiT^sars  should  feel  their  power, 
and  veil  its  glory  before  them ;  and  that  the  stu- 
pendous structure  of  Paganism,  reared  by  philoso- 
phy, cemented  by  habit,  and  upon  which  state 
policy  had  built  its  power  and  authority,  should 
vanish  as  a  morning  cloud  as  they  advanced  ? 
Yet  so  it  was — so  went  forth  the  word  of  salvation 
as  the  day  breaks — its  first  beam  distinguishing 
itself  by  its  purity  from  the  lamp  of  reason  and 
the  torch  of  philosophy;  but  wherever  it  poured 
its  meridian  splendor  eclipsing  all  light  in  its 
surpassing  radiance.  So  it  grew  as  the  mustard 
seed,  "which  is  indeed  the  smallest  of  all  seeds," 
but  when  its  maturity  shall  have  come,  not  the 
birds  of  the  air,  but  all  nations  of  the  earth,  shall 
find  repose  under  its  shadow.  So  it  rose  as  the 
fountain  rises — a  spring  of  living  water,  gushing 
forth  ;  but  now  it  is  a  river,  the  streams  whereof 
make  glad  the  city  of  our  God  :  and  in  the  fulness 
of  time  its  healing  waters  shall  flow  over  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world.  Its  voice  is  more  power- 
ful than  the  thunder,  to  which  science  can  easily 
point  out  the  bounds  assigned  ;  and  it  is  softer  than 
the  gale  of  the  summer  evening :  it  would  seem 
as  though  the  universe  were  constructed  to  convey 
its  sound  into  all  lands:  it  was  whispered  in  the 
east,  and  round  to  the  west — it  is  repeated  in  the 
west,  and  rolls  back  to  the  east.  It  is  as  gentle  as 
the  spring  shower,  and  as  fructifying — "  the  wil- 
derness and  the  solitary  place  is  made  glad  because 


204  BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER. 

of  it,  and  the  desert  rejoices  and  blossoms  as  the 
rose."  It  is  all  embracing,  vivifying,  enlightening, 
supplying,  controlling  as  the  sun  :  but  the  sun  has 
his  period,  and  "shall  sleep  in^the  clouds,  forgetful 
of  the  voice  of  the  morning."  But,  we  repeat,  what 
shall  the  end  be  ?  It  is  all  glorious  and  eternal  as 
the  heaven  to  which  it  leads — "  where  there  is  no 
night,  for  the  Lord  God  and  the  Lamb  are  the 
light  of  it ;  where  the  nations  of  the  redeemed 
shall  walk,  and  they  shall  reign  with  the  Redeem- 
er forever  and  evei-.     Amen." 


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